


Thief!

by depressed-sock (jinxedragon)



Series: Sidestep: Kiyo Basri stuff [1]
Category: Fallen Hero Series - Malin Rydén, Fallen Hero: Rebirth (Video Game)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, ftm characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-25
Updated: 2019-01-30
Packaged: 2019-10-16 03:19:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 17,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17541668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jinxedragon/pseuds/depressed-sock
Summary: (The first two chapters are left open to interpret Ortega's, Sidestep's, and Anathema's genders but 3rd chapter and on the perspective switches to my Sidestep Kiyo's story.)You have a plan and it's a good plan...probably. Maybe you should pay more attention to your surroundings.





	1. Spare change

You pull the hood further down over your face as you walk. You’re still debating yourself on whether this course of action is a good idea. You’ve survived longer off of scraps of food before but the pain in your stomach strongly disagrees with you.

Just grab someone’s wallet, it happens all the time. ‘They’ wouldn’t automatically start pointing fingers at Los Diablos just because someone got their wallet stolen.

You let out a shaky breath, fuck you don’t want to do this, to risk this, but what choice do you have right now? You’re on the run, hiding in a decrepit building, and currently finding some kind of work is a lot riskier. So stop whining and just fucking do it.

You move fast, focusing on the noise of the crowd’s thoughts as you walk down the street. You're just another nobody like everyone else here. You bump into your target, making a weak apology as you continue on. It’s done and it’s over now just find a quiet-

“Hey!”

Fuck! You take off running not bothering to look back. Shit, what did you do wrong? You where just a nobody to everyone and… wait… you can’t feel the anger…you can’t feel anything from the steps rushing behind you.

Fuck fuck fuck. Did 'they’ find you? Or did you find 'them’?

The irony of that has a distressed laugh slipping out, its impossible you know it’s impossible. You turn a corner and swiftly parkour of the wall and over the chain link fence.

Keep moving. Never stop.

“Fucking pendejo! Get back here!” They yell from behind you, grunting as they vault over the fence, still following close behind you.

Whoever this fucker is, they’re not normal. Normal people don’t keep up with you.

You can feel the static in the air, goosebumps raising on your skin and you just barely dodge a small arc of electricity aimed at you. Fuck definitely not normal, definitely not fucking normal. A boost? Or a… mod… oh no…

You did not steal from the fucking Marshal of the Rangers. You did not fucking do that. Another arc of electricity passes you… fuck you did. You stole the Marshal’s wallet. You fucking idiot.

Well… may as well make the most of this absolutely terrible situation, right?

You take the wallet out as you run, opening it, expecting to find a wad of cash or come on maybe a few dollars but no. You only find an ID and a few cards. Who the fuck doesn’t fucking carry fucking cash?! Apparently the fucking Marshal. You stupid…ugh…there’s no point in keeping this.

Hopefully… maybe… if they have it back they’ll lose interest in chasing you down.

You stop dead in your tracks down an alley waiting for them. When they turn the corner, you aim and the wallet lands with a resounding smack against their face just as you turn to continue running. Loud cursing following your steps down the alley as you escape from them.

…

Ok, so the first time was bad… maybe that’s putting it too lightly. The first time was a clusterfuck of a situation and now you may or may not be on the Marshal’s hit list. You don’t know for sure because you’ve made sure to know at all times where they were going to be. At least your pretty sure they didn’t get a good look at your face.

There hasn’t been any APB’s out on a suspect who stole the Marshal’s wallet either. Probably because you returned it to their… face. Yeah… you should probably avoid them at all costs at this point.

You move the scarf a bit farther up your nose, luckily the weather was turning colder making it easier to hide your face without much notice. But colder weather can also be dangerous, especially at night.

Your still not at a point where you want to resort to stealing from stores, so trying to pickpocket someone will have to do. This time though you’ll triple check whether or not you can read their mind, and you will also make sure the Marshal is on the other side of the city before you try anything.

You move along the street, never making eye contact with anyone. Brushing past their minds, testing. Ahead of you a man, talking on his phone distracted. Perfect.

You brush lightly past him, barely noticeable as you swipe the wallet from his back pocket until he’s gripping your wrist glaring at you.

“One second Ortega,” he closes his phone and admittedly you’re now running on instinct so you react by kicking him in the groin and running when he let’s go in shock. He lets out a loud string of curses and he’s luckily much slower than the Marshal.

You get away easily and when you sit down in the corner of your room in your rundown building you finally realize that you recognized the name the man said. Fuck no… you did not…

You open the wallet

Wei Chen…Ranger.…

Fucking…Really?!

…..At least you're 40 bucks richer?

…

You slip the package into the mail slot trying to hide your nerves. Just dropping off a package. That’s it… definitely doesn’t have a Ranger’s wallet in it… nope.

Fuck, maybe you should have just paid that kid 10 bucks to do this. No though, you had to be stingy. You also probably shouldn’t have added the silly doodle person saying sorry but it’s not like they could trace that. Besides, it was just a little fun addition and you don’t get to have fun often anyway.

You’re far from the building before anyone notices the package.


	2. And More

They always say third time’s the charm, though to be honest, you don’t know who “they” are or why it took them three times to always get something right… though you are fast becoming familiar with that painful concept.

 Two Rangers… how do you steal two wallets from people who are supposed… **no** … absolutely fucking need to have far more self-awareness than an average everyday person. Their reaction time at the very least seemed fine but honestly, you shouldn’t have even been able to slip the wallets out of their pockets.   

 Mistakes like that can get you killed. You know that… you’ve killed using those mistakes- **Stop**. It’s over and you have no intention of ever going back to that. You followed orders and that’s all.

  You shake your head digging your hands into your jacket pockets as you lean back against the fountain. Focus. The 40 bucks didn’t last long or really help as much as you would have liked. A few cans of food was better than no food though, so you can’t really complain. You should probably find a way to make a steady stream of cash other than trying to pickpocket but really what can you do?

 You sigh looking at you feet, focus on what you can accomplish now. You can worry about how to permanently fix your money troubles later, right now you need to work. You raise your head and scan the area, the park is starting to grow crowded with excited and very distracted minds.

 Today was a local event to draw people in to see people’s hand made crafts and eat from exotic food stands. A third chance to hopefully get some extra cash for food or even a cheap portable heater… maybe. You doubt it, but you do occasionally like to hope for things.

 You start to move, letting the crowd guide you, allowing yourself to be bumped into and pushed. No one the wiser that you were grabbing their wallets. Your intel says that neither Wei Chen aka Steel or the Marshal were going to be anywhere in the vicinity of the park. The other rangers, unfortunately, you have no clue where they’ll be. You couldn’t find out their schedules because the bastard that you’ve been using for intel decided to die of mysterious circumstances.

 Poor bastard, you’d hate to get on whoever’s bad side that he decided to get on. His death had not been a pretty one. You visibly wince just thinking about it. _Focus_.

 You’ll have to wing it and hope to fucking god that the other rangers have better sense than the last two. Or maybe it’s you who should have the better sense. At least with Steel, you should have sensed something different about him, should have at the very least registered exactly who he was talking too.

 The crowd pushes you forward past a dozen stalls, each brightly colored but peddling different items. The aroma of food makes your stomach grumble in protest. Shit, maybe you should have eaten something beforehand.

 Just ignore it, you’ve already procured 3 wallets, your empty stomach can last a bit longer until…. Until there’s an explosion a little ways behind you.

 People scream pushing you forward as they run to get away from it and your not fast enough to keep up with them. You fall and people in their rush to get away begin to trample you. You let out a scream as someone steps on your wrist. Fuck! You pull it in and bring your other arm around your head trying to make yourself a smaller more protected target.

 You feel a pair of hands grabbing you, pulling you up and out of the crowd’s way. Literally up… into the air…what the fuck?!

 Strong arms grip you, trying to hold you still you as you try to scramble away in fear. _This is too high_.

 "Calm down, you’re alright,“ his warm voice reverberates through his chest along with a chuckle. You’re tempted to look up at him but you don’t need him getting too clear a look at your face.

 Fuck. Your luck is absolute shit. He’s got to be around the twelfth boost you’ve met in the past month. At least he’s not trying to set you on fire like that last one…. You are apparently not much of a people person because she and several others have tried to kill you every time you’ve opened your mouth.

 The man holds you close as he hovers over the crowd before setting you both down on a nearby patch of grass. You stumble out of his grasp falling to your knees onto the grass, cradling your hand against your chest. You hope the hood keeps your face hidden well enough.

 Another explosion goes off and you look slightly towards the area seeing green smoke careening into the air. The man standing above you lets out a sigh and you risk peaking up to find him staring at the smoke with a frown. Oh, you recognize him. Sentinel… another Ranger… how do you keep running into these people?

 "You should get out of here,” he says looking down at you and you quickly look away with a nod of your head. As you start to get up and move away you hear him mutter to himself, “Goddamnit Themmy why can’t you wait before rushing in.”

 He’s gone before you even begin to run away from the danger.

…

 You go through the wallets, you made out pretty well all things considered. You’ve got almost 200 dollars and that’s just between the two wallets you’ve looked at. Unfortunately, most of that is going to have to go towards medical supplies for your broken wrist. You toss the second wallet into the pile with your good hand and reach for the third letting it flip open.

A rangers ID slips out of the wallet, the picture on it shows a person with curly red hair and freckles. Anathema.… **No** ….Why?! Why does this keep happening?!

 You don’t even know how to feel about this. This one didn’t even notice you take their wallet, fuck you didn’t even notice who you took it from.

 You glare at the ID, you should keep it out of spite. Maybe then the Rangers would learn to fucking not be easy targets.

…

 You gave the wallet back… this time though you convinced a hyperactive 12-year old girl that if she turned in the wallet she could get Charges autograph.

 She had looked at you with starry eyes and a gigantic smile when you said that. Charge had better of fucking given her an autograph or you were personally going to find them and make them regret their entire existence.

 You’re two blocks away but you swear you can feel her unbridled elation spike at some point.

….

 Alright, so stealing wallets may not be the best course of action for you, especially considering how your luck has been playing out. That’s fine, in fact, you have had a sudden inspiring idea that makes sure you don’t accidentally steal from ‘Heroes’ anymore. You’ll just steal from criminals!

 Nobody complains when they get beat up, right?! And nobody should complain if you beat them up _and_ take their money, right?!?! You really fucking hope so because this is a decision you can’t really turn back from now.

 One of the six guys on the ground groans and you immediately respond by kicking him the head too fully knock him unconscious. Well, technically they tried to steal from you first so stealing from them should honestly be considered fair game.

 You’re going to have to move again…fuck. This place wasn’t great but at least it had been your place. It had all your stuff in it too, well maybe most of it isn’t really your stuff… but it is now. There are no take backs allowed.

  You step over several of the knocked out thugs, gathering what you need. Trying not to take the things you don’t. Keyword being trying. You groan in complaint, this is **your** stuff, you don’t want to leave any of it behind.

 But you know better, so you take the necessities you can fit into a duffel and maybe a few extra things. You leave the building refusing to look back and regret.


	3. Pink hoodies with white cats

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the chapter that switches over to Kiyo!

 Your new… _home_ was not exactly ideal; it’s got 3 walls, about half a roof, and a cold breeze that causes you to curl into your ratty blanket in a vain hope that it will give you some kind of warmth. At least this place will help keep you dry and you could easily move if you find something better or maybe even similar to your last place… Your last place had been perfect and then those assholes had shown up and ruined everything. It was too much of a risk to stay where people could easily find or trace you.  

  You should’ve just killed those assholes and tossed their bodies into a nearby river. None of them could say what they encountered if they were dead.

   **No**. You’re not allowed to think like that, like how they taught ‘ _her_ ’ to think. ‘ _She_ ’ may have killed, but you’re not ‘ _her_ ’ anymore. You were never a ‘ _her_ ’ to begin with. You figured out that you are male a long time ago and no one will ever tell you otherwise again. Besides, you’ve already decided that you’re not going to kill anyone ever again. It would be going against who you want to be.

 Who do you want to be anyway? ‘Normal’ you guess but ‘normal’ people don’t exactly live like you do; in constant fear of being found out, always on the run, and constantly looking over their shoulder.

 Maybe you should start simple, you want a constant meal and a warmer blanket. In order to achieve that you need money, the money from your recent heist you spent on a splint for your wrist and testosterone. Admittedly you probably should have spent the testosterone money on food but you rather like being able to feel like you’re finally yourself and not a puppet dancing to someone else’s strings.

  Personal comfort over what you actually need. They would have scolded you for that. Probably would have punished you in some way for it too. They’re not here though, and you can do whatever you fucking want.

 Like stealing wallets. That, however, was obviously not getting you anywhere but closer to being on the top of the Rangers shit list. So you should go in the opposite direction, like fighting the thugs who found your place. They had a bunch of stuff on them, weapons that could’ve-

 Wait, Fuck. You should have grabbed some of their fucking weapons. You could have pawned those off for cash or at least you could have something better to protect yourself with. Why the fuck didn’t you grab any?

  _Oh, I don’t know_ maybe because you were too focused on grabbing shit you obviously don’t need. Like that broken mug with the cats on it or the pink stuffed animal puppy, you don’t need those to survive.

 But…. what’s the point in surviving if you don’t have any wants? You **want** to keep them because you like the broken cat mug and you like the pink fluffy puppy. They are yours… **Yours** , it’s a concept you have been happily becoming familiar with.

 Alright, _refocus_ , you need to beat up ‘bad guys’ so you can steal their stuff and not accidentally steal the Ranger’s stuff. Which you’d think would be an easy concept but considering how the last couple of months have gone…. you should at least try very hard _not_ to steal the Rangers wallets again.

 You’ll have to figure out how you’re going to do this. Are you going to fight everyday criminals or some of the masked guy’s? The masked guys might actually have more money considering they can afford those suits.

 If you go after them the first thing you’ll need to do is make sure no one can identify you… you’ll have to see what you can find around town. No one misses broken or old things and you could probably even use any old clothes you find for padding or makeshift bandages… _Are you really sure you want to go down this path???_

…..

 You study the jacket, letting it shift in your hands as you sit in your rundown corner you call your temporary home. You should have left it or at least grabbed something more subdued that would help you blend in. But… you really liked the pink color and the little white cat head on the front. It was cute and when it had caught your eye fluttering in the wind on a clothesline you had felt some unspeakable need to have it.  

 You shift, removing your worn grey sweater to put on the jacket. Hmmm… not too warm and just a bit too long in the sleeves but that’s absolutely fine. You can work with this, you can use this. After all, tons of vigilantes and heroes you’ve seen have bright colors. You don’t see why you shouldn’t have bright colors as well.

 With this, those broken snowboarding goggles you found a while back, some cheap medical masks and a bunch of duck tape you could pull this off. You’ll probably look ridiculous compared to a lot of others but you’ve got to start somewhere. Now you’ve just got to find a ‘bad guy’ to beat the shit out of.

….

  _A dark mutilated form stands on the edge of a building looking upon what should be his. They took everything from him and for that everyone will pay, they will all suffer as he has. He turns to place his helmet, specially crafted to look like a bull’s head, on. He is Tartarus and they will all be forced to their knees._

….

 This was an absolute shit idea, you don’t remember ever being this tired before or using your powers as much as you have. Typically you just keep your shields tight unless you needed information that could be easily skimmed of the top of someone’s thoughts or if you needed to redirect attention away from you. This was something else entirely.

 You had to follow a line of thought to were it might land, maybe even push it slightly so it went the way you wanted and react fast enough to not be where they were aiming. But it was so fucking hard to predict with this guy, his mind is scattered and you’re not even sure he knows what he’s doing.

 Then add on the fact that you haven’t eaten in two days and you’ve fought this guy at least five times in the last week. You’re physically weaker than you had been at the start and you’re clearly slowing down.

 “None shall defeat me!” Lord of the Fucks screeches, his mind racing several different ways. Which way? There!

 You dodge into cover just as one of his laser’s ghosts past your face. There are already several holes in your jacket because of this asshole and that’s made this whole situation personal enough that you keep fighting him with no hope of a payout. No one ruins your already barely holding together jacket without consequence… You should probably look into finding a new one because duck tape was not exactly going to keep it together forever.

 If you’re being honest you should of just let the other vigilantes, or hell even the Rangers, deal with this asshole but that’s not really an option now. _Thanks to the idiot who got blasted and decided to die in a pile of rubble. That was a gigantic help…_

 You really hope he’s not actually dead, you didn’t get a clear look at him when he decided to jump in to help only to get clearly blasted in the chest. You think you might have heard rubble guy groan but you don’t feel anything from his mind. Hopefully, he’s just taking a very deep nap… Yeah, no, you shouldn’t kid yourself, rubble guy is most likely dead. Shit.

 “Hey! Lord of the Fucks! I think you killed that guy!” You may as well antagonize him, it’ll cause more chaos for a bit in his mind but it’ll also make him stupid, letting a single string of thought become the clearer course of action.

 “I am LORD OF THE FLIES!” It’s almost funny how hysterical he sounds each time you get his name wrong. Apparently, it’s some kind of reference and has nothing to actually do with controlling files. You were incredibly disappointed by that.

 “Sorry, what? I can’t hear you over my inability to actually care!” the thread grows clearer, he’s been sticking to ranged attacks but his anger is moving him towards you, a straight line that has him wanting to punch you. Good, you know you’re better at fighting than he is, even in your weakened state you’re sure you can take him.

 He rounds the corner of your cover, hands glowing but he doesn’t realize that’s exactly what you wanted. You push his hands up, his lasers shotting into the sky and you quickly land a swift kick to his side, followed by several punches. He tries to block and fight back but you’re faster and can easily dodge his attempts.

 “Stop sidestepping my attacks! You little bi-Aaaarrggg!” your next kick lands a clean hit on his unprotected groin. Admittedly that might of been unnecessary but you feel it was warranted considering his very loud thoughts of what he thinks of you.

 He falls a bit forward in pain and you take the opportunity to grab his head to slam it down on your knee. He lands on the ground next to you with a loud thump. You can still feel a buzz of his mind but he’s definitely unconscious.

 However, you still can’t feel anything from rubble guy so he’s definitely fucking dead. Is there some kind of protocol for this? Do you just leave his body for people to find? Do you call someone?

 A hand suddenly grasps your shoulder, “Hey! Guess I should thank yo-” you don’t think, your body still running high off the adrenaline as you grab the arm touching you and judo throw the person touching you. He lands with a gasp and a groan and before you can knock him unconscious your brain finally registers who is in front of you.

  Marshal Charge….Rubble guy is Marshal Charge. Marshal Charge is fucking rubble fucker. Fuck. That’s why you couldn’t feel any thoughts from him.

 At least he’s not dead? Wait… shit, you should have planned for this. What if he recognizes you? What if he knows you stole his wallet that one time, as well as the other Rangers wallets? Should you actually knock him out?

 You’re in the process of freaking out when you hear him let out a laugh,  he’s already standing brushing dust off his nanomesh suit.

 “You’ve got quite the throw,” he looks at you plastering on one of those charming smiles you’ve seen him flash towards reporters and everyone with a pulse. The smile falters a bit as he takes in your appearance though, face scrunching in confusion, “You sure you’re old enough to be doing this though?”

 “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” you ask offended, crossing your arms defensively. You’re the one who took down Lord of the Fucks while he was taking a nap in a pile of rubble.

 He motions toward you, cringing a bit, “It’s just…hmmm… you look… young…”

 “What?” you look down, nothing really looks like it gives away how old you look. The goggles and mask are still firmly affixed to your face, nothing to say that you’re younger than him. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

  “…You know what nevermind,” he holds out his hands towards you, “I’m Charge,” he smiles and shrugs, “though I’m sure you know that.”

 “Charge? Because you charge into situations without thinking Rubbleguy?” he clearly doesn’t seem to recognize you; no sudden revelation or pointing fingers. That’s made you brave enough to tease him. ‘ _I’m sure you know that_ ’ what a fucking idiot.

 He pouts at you and when you don’t shake his hand and he pulls it back with a nervous laugh. “That’s not why I’m called Charge,” it’s only part of the reason. You’ve done your research, “If you prefer though you could call me Ortega.”

 “I like Rubbleguy better,” you shrug your shoulders and before he can say anything else you turn to leave. “I’ve got places to be, so see yeah.” You flip him off as you leave, may as well get away with it while you can.

 “Hey! Wait a second! What’s your name!”

 You don’t answer him as you run away from him and the sounds of approaching sirens.

 Wait… you forgot to check Lord of the Fucks pockets. Fucking shit.


	4. A Familiar ‘Annoying’ Face

**2nd**

 You’re breathing heavily hands on your knees as you stand over the three thugs that were trying to rob the electronics store. They probably don’t have much on them but it’s better than no-

 “Hey!” You spin aiming a kick towards the voice’s head, only to find your leg caught in his grip and you suddenly on the floor. Rubbelguy stands above you with a smug smile, “You know you should really work on that environmental awareness.”

  _‘You should work on not getting your fucking wallet stolen asshole,’_ you bite back your remark there’s no need to out yourself to him. Is this going to become an insistent irritating problem? Not being able to sense this fucker sneak up on you? Why is he even here anyway? This is clearly not a high-level heist requiring his attention.

 “Go fuck yourself,” you kick out at him but he quickly dodges backward. Your back on your feet before he can do anything else. You can’t riffle through pocket’s while the ‘hero’ is here to watch over you so you may as well leave.

 “Hey! Please wait I just-” You slam the door maybe a bit too hard into his face.

**4th**

 “Hey, Rubble fucker! Catch!”

 “Will you stop calling-Offf”

  “Uhh…Whoops?”

**6th**

 Alright, that’s another one down, now-

 “Come here often?” He expects the kick but not the punch that plows into his stomach.

 Shit, you didn’t mean to actually do that, “Goddamnit! Stop sneaking up on me!” This situation is so much worse than accidentally stealing his wallet. Maybe you should go back to that before he tries to throw you in jail for assault.

 He holds his stomach a bit and sends you a wink, “At least I’m not falling head over heels again.”

 You suddenly have to suppress an incredibly strong urge to hit him again. “Maybe next time you do you’ll land in hell.”

 “Ouch, Is that your way of saying you don’t like me?”

 “No,” You move closer to him grabbing his shirt, _why is he wearing civs while fighting crime?,_ “I’ll tell you to your face if I don’t like you Rubbelguy.” You let go and turn to leave doing your best to ignore his existence.

 “Wait… does that mean you don’t like me? Or that you do- Wait! Oh, come on!”

**8th**

 “Hey, kid! Good job with taking them down!”

 “Call me a kid again and I’ll shove my foot up your ass.”

 “… I’m so tempted to make that dirty.”

 “I’m going to push you down the stairs if you do.”

**11th**

 How? How does he keep finding your vigilante persona? This is ridiculous and getting out of hand. You haven’t even been able to riffle through the pockets of the people you’ve knocked out because he suddenly appears out of nowhere. His entire presence letting out an air of judgment everytime you so much as look at something wrong. Or maybe that’s just your imagination, afterall you can’t actually tell what he’s thinking.

 Either way, you’re fed up, tired and hungry. You want him to go away and leave you alone. Speaking of hungry, when was the last time you ate anyway? Maybe last night? Or was it the night before? Or.. you don’t know…Fuck.

 You try to block the Empress of Flames punch, _why are there so many people wanting to be rulers?,_  a wave of heat bursting off of her as she grabs your arm a sadistic smile on her face. It’s so hot, everything feels so incredibly suffocating.

  Her mind is a weave of chaos that reminds you of a few others you’ve fought… It has the intense unpredictably that Lord of the Fucks had. Until you got him angry but you can’t risk getting her angry, she might roast both you and Rubbleguy alive… Is that why everything is so hot right now? Is she roasting you alive from the inside out? You can feel yourself faltering, a black film starting to form around your eyesight.

 Rubbleguy must see you struggling because he moves in, knocking her grip off you and pushing you behind him. “How you holding up Kid?” he sounds worried but you can’t bring yourself to care as the black starts to take over your vision.

 “I’m..not..a..ki-” the floor feels so much cooler than you expected.

…

 Something cool rests against your forehead, it feels so nice… wait… Empress! You jolt up your hood falling back. No no no no. Your hand reaches up and your goggles and mask are still affixed to your face. Thank fuck.

 “You should lie back down,” your head whips around. Shit too fast. Dizziness suddenly hits you and you nearly fall forward off the stone bench you were lying on, “Woa, shit,” he grabs you holding you steady.

 “What?” happened? It’s so hard to speak, your throat is so dry.

 “It seems Empress’s abilities can heat up a person’s body temperature to dangerous levels,” he helps you lay back down on the cool bench, then holds a cold water bottle against your forehead, “I would have taken off your jacket but considering I saw what you did to the last guy that tore a hole in it I figured it was safer not too.” He smiles softly at you and you think it’s a nice smile, it feels genuine. “You should probably drink this,” he shakes the water bottle above your line of sight a bit and you find yourself licking your dry lips.

 You don’t want to remove your mask, _what is he recognizes you? What if he hates you?_ But you need to. Fuck. You try to sit back up and he moves to help you but you wave him off. You pull your hood up and turn so he can’t see your face. You hold out your hand blindly and you feel the coldness of the water bottle in your grasp.

 You move the mask slightly just enough so you can drink the water freely; greedily gulping it down. It helps but your still so fucking thirsty.

 “I’ve got two more,” you feel him hold another water bottle to your shoulder, and you take it, gulping it down quickly. You sigh in relief but a nervousness suddenly crawls it’s way up your spine. You find yourself crushing the empty water bottles in your hands. Why would he do something like this? Is it some kind of trick? It doesn’t feel like it, wouldn’t he have unmasked you if that was the case?

 “Thank you,” the words are quietly whispered but you know he heard it.

 “Hey, It’s no problem ki-”

 “Sidestep,” it slips out, you’re so fucking tired of being called kid. “Just call me Sidestep… Charge,” you bite out his name painfully. Fuck maybe you’re giving him too much rope to run with. You don’t have to be able to read his mind to know that he’s grinning at you. Oh fuck, you’re going to regret this so fucking much.

 “Sidestep, huh… because you keep sidestepping my advances?” goddamnit you shouldn’t have said anything.

  “I was going to be nice and keep calling you by your actual name but I changed my mind, Rubbelguy.”  

 “Wait, shit. It was a joke.”

 “Your jokes suck,” and so does your crappy smile.

**14th**

 “Hey Sidestep!”

 “No.”

  “I didn’t even-”

  “NO.”

**16th**

Your body is shaking from exhaustion when you feel the presence behind you. The irritation you feel is currently unequaled, the nonstop pestering was finally breaking your nerves.  
 "Leave me the fuck alone!“ Your hands ball into fists and you don’t bother turning around to face him. You just want him to go away, to stop bothering you.  
 "I’m sorry?” That’s not Rubbleguy… fuck. You spin around to find Sentinel hovering a few inches off the ground, his expression both unamused and confused by your reception. Fucking hell.  
 "Uhhh…I umm I thought you were someone else,“ you weakly explain. You hadn’t expected any of the other Rangers to show up, you should have but Rubbleguy has ruined all your common sense. He just keeps showing up, you don’t even know how he keeps finding you but every time you’ve turned around since meeting him he’s there. Smiling at you, being a condescending asshole with his ‘goodjobs’.   
 Does he think your inept since your fight with Empress? Or does he suspect you’ve been stealing off the people you’ve 'defeated’? He won’t stop using the name you gave him either. ‘Sidestep this’ ‘Sidestep that’ his presence was all around an annoyance. Maybe he knows you’re not legit and he’s trying to get you to incriminate yourself with his pestering? Is he now getting the other Rangers involved with his scheme?  
 Sentinel lets out a loud sigh pinching the bridge of his nose, "You’re the kid Ortega’s obsessed with, aren’t you?” Its posed as a question but you feel he’s already certain of the answer. _Obsessed with? Shit, that doesn’t sound good_. “We need to talk.”  
 "Alright,“ you shrug your shoulders stuffing your hands into your pockets, motioning your head as you turn and walk down an alley. You’re not talking about this here, in fact, you’d rather not talk about it at all but you don’t think that’s going to be an option.  
  He sets on the ground watching as you start to climb up the nearby buildings fire escape, "If you want to talk on the roof I can carry you.”  
 "No thanks,“ you prefer being able to hold onto something that can’t be shot out of the sky. "Besides I’m not going all the way up and you,” you point towards him, “ are staying right there.” You sit on the second story escape legs dangling over the edge. Not high enough that you couldn’t escape if need be but enough to have space between you and him. He could easily fly up to reach you but the illusion of having a higher ground advantage helps calm your nerves a bit.  
 "Are you done?“ He looks completely fed up with your shenanigans already. Maybe if you annoy him enough he’ll leave.   
 "I guess, what exactly is this about?”   
 "Do you want me to get Ortega to leave you alone?“ Your shocked into a dumbfounded silence. You hadn’t expected that, why would he care if Rubbleguy is bothering you? But he does care, you can feel it. The worried thoughts that Ortega is pushing boundaries he shouldn’t be.   
 "I don’t know,” you look away, your hand nervously rubbing against your neck. He’s been persistent, annoying, condescending, and an absolutely smug asshole but…   
 No, there should be no buts you should take Sentinels offer you should… but… you don’t want to. He’s been all those things but you can’t deny the kindness he’s shown you. Even if it’s all an act… You also don’t feel as lonely as before. No, it’s more you didn’t realize how lonely you were before he started following you around.

 “If you ever want him to back off and he’s not listening, tell me and I’ll get him to stop.”

 “I can take care of myself,” you bite back. You don’t want anyone’s help.

 “I know… but Ortega can be…” He winces trying to find the right words.

 “A pest? Annoyingly persistent? A fucking idiot?” _Too caring? Too kind? Too trusting?_ You’ve got a growing list of exactly what he is.

  Sentinel let’s out a laugh and shakes his head, “All of that and more.”

  You sigh, “Yeah but I think you saving me once is more than enough.” wait…you didn’t just…

  His eyes narrow on you and suddenly you feel him trying to go through his memories trying to place you, “Is that so?”

  Shit. Fucking shit! Backtrack! Backtrack now. Give him something else to focus on.

 “Yeah, you helped me realize I’m transgender,” NOOO, not that way. Why would you fucking tell him that! “I mean.. Not literally helped me… More figuratively?” This is not helping you! This is making it worse! SO MUCH WORSE!

   He’s staring at you shocked, _shit shit shit_. “How so?”

   Don’t answer that, just run. Run far away, “I read about you in the paper, That you were openly transgender. I didn’t know the word so I looked it up and suddenly so much shit made sense and I had a word to describe what I was feeling and I really shouldn’t be telling you any of this,” you’re rambling and now you’re standing and you’re going to run away and go stick your head into your ratty old blanket and go scream.

  He lets out a soft laugh, staring at you like he’d just found something… you don’t know what he found, you’re not sure you want to be a found something. You jump off the fire escape, “Well if there’s nothing else I’ve got to go… faaar away,” you begin to turn but you find yourself stopping momentarily, “Please… _Please_ don’t tell anyone.”

 “I won’t,” his eyes soften as he stares at you accompanying a small sad frown, you can feel the empathy coming off of him. He knows, he understands.

 “Thank you.” You run and you don’t look back.


	5. Oh, there’s the plot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tw: character has a panic attack

 “You should let me take you out to eat,” Ortega smiles at you and you find yourself almost faltering as you try to block one of the Shade twins attacks. _A twisting mind of Chaos._ It feels like every boost you’ve fought since Empress has had something wrong… _wronger?_ with their minds.

 “Are you seriously asking me this now? Why do you always bring up weird conversations when we’re fighting bad guys?” Seriously, it’s already hard enough trying to keep up with their thoughts you don’t need the added distraction. You’re going to end up stabbed at this rate.

 Ortega sends a bolt of electricity through the twin he’s fighting fully knocking them unconscious, “Why not? It’s not like you actually talk to me when we’re not fighting people.”

 “The answer is still no,” you flip the Shade twin over your shoulder landing a solid kick onto their face to knock them out. At least they were easier to fight than some of the others.

 “Come on, it’s just out for food. You’re looking a bit thin,” he’s got that annoying grin as he shakes his hands out a bit, probably trying to get the tingling out of them.

 You stand, stretching your back and letting it pop, “I hope you don’t say that to your girlfriends because if you do I can give you a hint as to why you fail at relationships.”

 “Why do you always attack my kindness with harsh truths,” he laughs, gently punching your shoulder.

 “Probably because the real reason you want to take me out is that you want to see my face,” you’re not stupid. You know exactly what he wants, always too curious for his own good. Like the one time, he tried to taste test some weird gooey substance, turns out you were fully in the right to slap it out of his hand because it came alive and tried to taste test him instead.

 “I’m hurt you think I have an ulterior motive other than to feed my friend,” he pouts at you but you’ve become immune to that…mostly. Kinda… Fuck.

 You let out a loud sigh, it’s free food and no one said you had to show him anything. You could show up, grab the food, and run. “Fine, but no cameras or fancy restaurants.”

 He looks at you shocked like you just blew his mind away by accepting. There’s that irritating smile again, “It’s a date then.”

  You are definitely not blushing at that, it’s just the summer heat. That’s all.

 “Yeah, sure, whatever,” you shrug, waving him off as you run away because that’s what you always do. Run away from impossibilities.

_…._

_Tartarus watches the little mouse in the pink jacket, scurrying around, fighting another he has gifted. It runs his mazes thinking it is smarter than him, thinking it could find the end to the thrilling chaos he has given the gifted. It is a fool; it and the Ranger._

_Tartarus visibly quakes in anger, the name spit out like a viper strike. Ranger, how he despises the toys that pretend to be saviors. They are nothing, they are useless to him. The mouse though… the mouse could be useful. The Ranger follows it around, hoping to befriend it. Tartarus laughs, what a foolish thought._

_No, the Ranger does not deserve the mouse. Tartarus will have the mouse instead and he will make the mouse so much greater; filled with his maze of chaos. Then he will set the mouse upon the Ranger and take so much glee as the mouse bloodies its hands with the Ranger’s blood._

_……._

   You flop down onto your pile of recently acquired blankets groaning in pain, being a vigilante sucks. You barely get any money or anything else in return for your ‘good deeds’. Maybe you should have continued down the path of villainy. Maybe you should of went from stealing wallets to running drugs for local crime lords. At least those guys might get some kind of hazard pay and you would have definitely handled the hazards well enough. Better than you’re handling being a ‘vigilante’.

 You groan into the blanket, that probably would have been too drastic a change, not to mention those people would probably sell you out in a heartbeat instead of three. Which immediately brings to mind Ortega, the persistent asshole. He shows up and makes you feel guilty enough that more times than not you’ve neglected to search the people you help him beat the shit out of for money. You don’t actually know if he would really care but you’d rather not take any chances.

  And then he asks questions he shouldn’t, dangerous questions and everytime he does you find yourself biting your tongue. He’s gotten you so used to him that you almost answer his questions unthinkingly. Like accepting an offer to go out to eat…

 Goddamnit, you shouldn’t have done that, what would he think if he knew the truth? He’d hate you. You don’t want him to hate- Wait. When did you start referring to him as Ortega instead of Rubbleguy? Actually more importantly, when did you start _feeling_ **that**? Fuck. Is this some kind of Stockholm syndrome without the kidnapping? Stockholm stalker syndrome? You should want him to hate you, to leave you alone, you can’t afford him or anyone else getting close.

  _You wanted to be ‘normal’, having friends is ‘normal’._ It’s more complicated than that! You can’t be ‘normal’ not until… later. You sit up with a loud sigh shedding your signature jacket, goggles, mask, and shoes. Later is a long time off so, for now, you should-

 

**_C̸̱̘̖̝͙̺͔a̛͉͙n̛͎ ̸̮̪y̠͠o̲͉̰̰u͉͓̝̘̤ͅ ͉͈̭͉h̼̘̤̘̲e̲a̬r͓̼̺͈̣̺ ̬m̥̪̖e̘͠?̛̞_ **

 

You freeze. _Scratching_. Steps, you hear steps echoing in the abandoned building you’ve recently taken up residence in. You jump up from your bed of blankets, reaching out feeling…

 

**_L̺̖̹̞̘͡i̧͓̪̩͍͈t̝̖͎t͔l̫͚͙͓̗͞e͉͉͈̱̫ͅ ̩͙͡M̘͖̫͎̺͖o̘̹͍͕̙̜̥u̵͔̠s̷e̻̖̦̮̼͖_ **

 

  You recoil back in absolute terror. A mind so broken and warped, clawing against your mind. This is bad, this is very bad. Is it _Them_? No this is familiar but it’s definitely not _them_. It’s different, a maze of chaos, almost like… Like Lord of the Fucks, like Empress, like the Shade twins and like a dozen other’s you’ve fought this year. The center of a maze you didn’t even realize existed. _It’s trying to claw you into pieces._

**_Run. You need to run._**

 

**_Y͓̞̹͠o̢̱̞͓̙u̯̘̥̺͚͙ ͎͖̮n͔̝e̤̳̤̲e̸̘̟͇̖͙̹̤d̬̟͟ ̱͓̬̬̣͟t̥ͅo̺̭̬̳ ͓̦̬̥̥̺̩s̷̬͇͓t҉̹̣̰̪ạ͡y͈_ **

 

You can’t move. You can feel him, hear him. Hot breathes against your ear. You turn fast, a shadow in your vision, backing away in fear blinking to find no one is actually there. _Run, **don’t think** run. _Instinct takes over and you’re running down the hall towards an exit, any exit.

  ** _Through a maze of chaos._**

 

**_Ỵ̦̼͓̼͈̮͙ͨ̏ͬ͢͠o͓ͫ̿͊ͣͫ̚͟ŭ̶͙̼ͧ̈ͩͤͯ̈́̏ ̗͔̰͖̦ͧ̈́̃̈́̈́ͯ͑̒͡aͨ͐͌͘҉̭̤̫͚̩͉͙r̰̳̗̟̖̜̅̊̚͝ě̛̤͛̌̐ͪ̇͂̈ ̸̺̘̲̠̤̟̲̎ͦ͋̈ͣ͘m̵̥͓̿̐̾͞i̶̢̹̘͖̱̱͚͉̅͋ͩ͆ͫ̆ͫ̌̚nͧͨ̈́̇̋ͧ҉̡̣̠̹͙e̫̱̯̹ͧ̉ͭ̚͟͟͠ͅ_ **

 

_No you fucking aren’t._

 You skid out a door, into the street. _He’s coming._ You need to find somewhere safe to recoup, to plan.

 

**_N͜o̝͋͒w̦͚̬̤̬͑ͩͭ̋̐ḥ̣ͥe̳͕̗̪̗ͦ̐r̪̞͓̺̣̠̆́̈ͅé̡͖̯̰̫̰͓͓ͣͨ̿̏̄ ̯͖͇̯̬̭͐̎̆͂͗͛ṫ̞͚̋̌̏̀ͣ͋ö̶͍̙̎ͪ̊̆̚ ̷͉̗͍͓͔̹̝͋r̭̩͎̹̉ͬu͐ͣ҉̮̼̗̥͓̣ņ̜̞̠̥̦ͅ_ **

 

 There is a place. You really don’t want to go there… but you can feel him pressing closer, you don’t have a choice. You know the way, you’ve been there before to return their wallets. Now you’re running backto them, from _this_ … whatever this is.

 

**Ť͎̻̼̓à̷̲̭̞̋͐r̺̙ͦͣ͜t̴͎͖̤͕̼̱̊ͫ͑̏̄ͤa̳̔̄̌̕rͮu̅ͫͦ͌ͨͪs̟͊ͫ̉̎͒̏ͫ.̴̘͔̱̰͉͖ͯͦ̈́̏ ͚̦̖̫̙͍̜̈͌̈ͤͪ͘**

_̗̘̩̭̍͆͆͛_

_I͖̦͎̭ͮͯ͛̽̉ͯ͆͠ͅt̓́̂ͨ͂̋ ̹̠̳̱̥͔͐ͤͫͥ̚̕s̶͙͇̫̹͓̳̈́͂̋ͨͯ̚h̷̜̽̌͒͗͒̔̽o̘͉͈͍̔u̴̳̤͖̞ͨ͋l̬̗ͨ͘d̹͙̖̪͙̫̼ͬ̃ͤ̉̐̋ ̨ͤ̽k͙͓̘̘̤͖͂ͧ͐͗͛ṅ̺̰̓ͣͣͥ̃ȯ̲̦̫̍w҉̻̬̪̝̗ ̯͓̭̊̿͑͐̌̈́ị̤̮ͪ̈͒̊̉ͨṭ̢̖̙̟̲'̜̟̺̯̦̱̪̉̾ͣs̰̰̱̖͎͖̖ͥ ̵̘̻̳̼͓̙͑̅̀̎̑̿m̻̄̓̎̇ȁ͚͙͔̫̈ͮ̄̕ͅŝ͔͈̲̑tẻ̞̘̙̰̫̜͛̆ͧ̅̌r͎͙̫̱̗̦̣ͭͩ̏̚s̵̘̳͈̤̻̳ ̴̲̹̲͚̳͍͇͑ͤn̠̙͖̪͖͇͎͆ͫ͊̔ͩǎ̤̭̭̲ͫͪ̆m̑̅e̱͎͕̻͙ͬ͗̊́͟_

 

 Tartarus… wow, that’s a fucking lame name, sounds like some kind of sauce. You can almost feel the anger crush you in response, it leaves you smiling hysterically. Anger it gives you such a clear thread of thought to follow. Like how much he hates the Rangers, it absolutely pisses him off that your first thought is to run to Charge. _Well, that makes two of us fuckhead._

  You keep running, despite the growing pain and the fear. Despite the looks, people give you as you rush past. You don’t know how long it took or how you really found your way but you soon find yourself bursting through the doors of the rangers headquarters. You feel your legs give out from under you, you might be crying. You can still feel the claws of something trying to make you wrong.

 “Hey!” someone rushing to your side kneeling beside you, thoughts of worry. “Are you okay?” No no no that’s not right you’re not here for thoughts. You push away the hands trying to help you. **It’s not right!**

 

**_I̼̳̫̖̣̅͊ͦ̀ͬ̽̿t̪̩͙̼̓̋̀̑ͥ͗'̟ͤ̉̚s̻̹̪͚̼̲̻̑̎ͬ̆ͥͯͧ ̼̫̭͔̏ͫ̑t͍͚̯̳̻̺h͍̩̖̪̪͌̌e̪̹̘͋ͦi̼͓̣̹̙̩͙r̟̤̠̄̅ͬ̈̊ ͙̬͓͔͓̭̐ͫ̋̾ͫh͌ͦ͐ͨ̊a͇͋̋nͧd̳̺͒́̾s̯͖͒͐̄͋́̚_ **

 

 Oh fuck, it’s _Their_ hands on you again. You don’t want them to touch you again, you don’t want them to hurt you again. **Panic.** You attack blindly. You can’t go back, you won’t go back.

 Arms around you, you can hear yourself screaming.

 “I’ve got you,” whispered calmly in your ear. No thoughts, just a solid presence of nothingness. You let out a shuttered breath of relief. _Safety_. You lean back into him calming down, his words wash over you, almost soundless murmurings. Suddenly a question, “What’s your name?”

 “You already know it,” you murmur, you can still feel the claws but they’re losing their grip. He doesn’t really know your name though, does he…  You haven’t told him the name you chose so long ago.

 “I do?” he sounds so confused, it’s so funny. You let out a light laugh; he can keep finding your vigilante persona but he couldn’t figure out what you really look like? He’s such a dumbass, you look up at him to find he’s studying you worriedly. Why are you both sitting on the ground?

  _Why are you here? Why are you In his arms?_ The sudden realization has you pushing back away from him out of his arms. You are not blushing. You are not fucking blushing.

 “No… sorry, I’m mistaken. I should go,” Why are you here?? You can’t remember… Oh, fuck you don’t have your gear on. He can see your face and.. Why do your feet hurt? You look down to find them bare and bleeding. _What the fuck happened?!_

He holds his hands up in a placating manner, “I think you should stay here until the ambulance gets here.”

 “Fuck NO!” That’s a terrible idea, that’s an absolutely fucking horrible idea.

 “Okay,” he still holding his hands up, “No ambulance.” Liar, he’s such a bad liar.

 You need to tell him… you can’t remember what you’re supposed to tell him. You’re starting to shake, this has never happened before. “Something’s wrong,” Are you saying that, or did you imagine it?

 “It’s alright we can help you,” still so calm, you’re starting to feel the others around you backed away so as not to send you into another panic. You can feel Steel trying to place you, he remembers but at the same time he doesn’t, Anathema is worried about you even though he doesn’t know you, and Sentinel… knows… he’s putting two and two together. You do your best not to look at him, you can feel his overwhelming worry and a little bit of amusement as he realizes he has actually saved you.

 “There’s something wrong,” you’re sure you said it this time, your voice shaking and weak.

 “Can you tell us what’s wrong?” why is he so calm, when you’re clearly not. It pisses you off, he shouldn’t be calm because there’s something wrong!

 “I don’t fucking know what’s wrong!” You should know, you should remember what brought you here without your gear, without your shoes. Your gripping your hair now in frustration. What is wrong with you?

 “I think we should take him to one of the upper floors,” Sentinel is walking closer. He knows, he knows and you should run. Run away from them all, from this city because _they’re_ going to come for you. The panic is setting back in, you try to get up and run but Ortega’s arms are back around you. Stopping you, imprisoning you.

 “Fucking let go! You rubble fucking asshole!” You can see the realization dawn on his face and suddenly he’s carrying you, walking towards the elevator. You’re trying to break free, your punches weak against him. You can feel yourself sobbing again, panic building up because _they’re_ going to take you back. Ortega looks so angry, he’s going to give you to them. You were right he hates you now that he sees the truth.

 “No one’s going to hurt you,” he says it softly and you want so badly to believe it but how can you when you know the truth, “Sidestep I need you to take a big breath for me and hold it until I reach the count of ten. Alright?”

 You don’t want too… _You need too though._ You nod your head and you try to breathe in but it’s so hard to breathe. _Oh, fuck you can’t breathe_.

 “Shit okay that isn’t going to work, You need to match my breathing,” he takes a deep breath and then lets the breath out slowly. You try to match him, your breaths are shaky and choked but by the time you’re finally able to match his breathing you feel calmer more in control. He’s somehow made it to a room with a couch which he sets you on, giving you space to fully calm down. “Can you focus?” he’s calm, trying to make sure you’re actually mentally here.

 “Yeah,” you swallow reflectively. “Fuck.”

  “Do you want to talk about what happened?”

 “I don’t know what happened,” _claws against your mind._ “I don’t know why I’m here.”

 “Okay, that’s fine-”

 “It’s not fine Ortega!” you look at him panicked. **No** calm down, _focus_. A maze, “Something about a familiar maze,” you murmur looking down, trying to reach for more but it slips from your grasp. You shake your head hands gripping your head again, “Fuck, I don’t remember.”

 “Alright, can you remember anything from before the memory loss?”

 “Umm, I was…” you were in your ‘home’. You shouldn’t tell him that if he knows how you live he'll… he’ll what? Realize how fucking broke you are? Try to track you down? He can’t exactly track you down if you move. Constantly move. Never stay in one place ever again. “I was… getting ready to sleep.”

 “So you were at home?”

 “Yeah?” you cringe a bit. You probably shouldn’t have made that sound like a question. He gives you an odd look but doesn’t press the issue.

 He suddenly looks at you weird, studying your face, “So… this is what the famous Sidestep looks like,” he crosses his arms, a smirk spreading across his face.

  “Really? This is what you’re going to focus on?” you glare at him but all that seems to do is make him happier.

  “Yep… you do look familiar though,” his face scrunches as he studies you. Weird. You don’t think you’ve ever….

  Oh no, no no no. Did he actually get a good look at your face when you stole his wallet? How would he even remember that?! That was months ago, actually…fuck it was almost a year ago!

  He must think you’re on the verge of another panic attack because his face suddenly defaults to concern. He kneels so that he’s eye level but doesn’t move to touch you again, “Focus, stay with me.”

 “I’m fine,” you bite out.

 He holds his hands up in surrender and then uses his right hand to point down, “You’re feet aren’t.”

 Oh… yeah, you had forgotten about that. “Uhhh,” you look down and wince. Shit, what did you do to them? Covered in bruises, blood and dirt, you must have ran all the way here barefoot. You… **_ran_** … Fuck, you live like 7 miles away. You ran 7 miles barefoot and most definitely through the roughest part of town. Fuck…

 “I’m going to go get medical supplies. Will you be okay by yourself?”

 “I’m sure I’ll survive,” you deadpan. This is quickly becoming patronizing.

 He shakes his head with a smile, getting up, leaving the room, leaving you alone to wonder why you all you can remember is fear; _claws scratching at the surface_.


	6. Realizations

 Steel is glaring at you **_why does he feel familiar?_** _How does he even realize you seem familiar, you interacted for like ten seconds almost a year ago_. Anathema is smiling **_this is the kid Ortega doesn’t shut up about?!_** _Goddamnit Ortega how much have you told them_. Sentinel’s expression is neutral **_The kid from the park? Think about that later focus on what’s happening now, what happened to him?_** _You’d really like to know that too, you’d also like to know why everyone here seems to have better memory recall than self-awareness_. Ortega is probably the most serious you’ve ever seen him, _nothing always nothing from him and right now that’s both infuriating and a comfort_.

 You shift uncomfortably in your seat, this is not how you planned to ever meet them. Technically, you had no plans to ever meet any of them face to face but here you are. Sitting at their meeting table, in a borrowed dark green hoodie, feet wrapped in bandages with no clue as to how you got here.

 “So… This is ummm,” you stare at Ortega and refuse to meet anyone else's eyes. _**Untrustworthy; Oh man Ortega you’re... hahaha I’m never letting him live this down; Please for the love of god don’t say anything stupid in response to him, Ortega.**_ “Something?” Your shields feel raw, falling to pieces and letting everyone but Ortega in. Maybe you should just try to leave… This may be too much for you to actually handle. “I think I’m just gonna,” you stand up pointing your thumb towards the door, _ignore the pain in your feet_ , “go.”

 “Sit,” Ortega, Sentinel, and Steel say in sync and you immediately resume your seat. Fuck that’s actually the scariest thing you’ve ever seen and heard.

 “We need to talk about what happened to you,” Ortega still looking so fucking serious. You kinda miss when he smiled at everything like a dumbass.

 “What is there to talk about? I don’t remember anything anyway,” you don’t want to remember; _claws past your shields_. You shake your head, trying to swallow the sudden fear that spikes through you.

 “Do you remember the boosts that you’ve been helping me take down?” he’s staring at you and suddenly you’ve got a really bad feeling.

 “Yeah...Hey! Wait a fucking second, **You** helped me take them down not the other way around!” Is he trying to make it sound like you’re the fucking sidekick? He’s the one that’s been following you around!

 “What? No, **you** helped me!” he looks absolutely offended. This fucking asshole.

 “I was fucking fighting them all first! You just kept showing up near the end!” you're leaning across the table yelling at him.

 “Hey! I saved your ass with Empress and I was fighting The Shade twins first!” He’s leaning towards you, matching your stance and volume.

 “Oh whop-di-fucking-do you saved me once and beat me to the twins; should we count the dozen or so times I’ve saved your ass and all the other fights where I was clearly there first!” you can feel Steel’s and Sentinels exasperation and absolute glee from Anathema.

 “I’ve saved you more than once!” he tries to make it sound confident but it feels more like he’s questioning himself.

 “Name one,” you glare at him because he isn’t winning this. He’s the fucking sidekick that follows you around like an overexcited lost puppy. Your heads are almost even across the table, as you level angry glares at each other.

_**Are they going to kiss? Because that would be hilarious**_

 You pull back like you’ve been stung, eye’s wide and you're trying very hard not to flip off Anathema for even putting that thought into your head. Why would you kiss Ortega? He’s not… you don’t think he is… **You’re** not… are you? This is a question you didn’t even realize you could answer, that there was an answer. Wait… There’s an answer? **No** , stop thinking about it. Stop thinking about it right now!

 You can feel the blush creeping into your cheeks, and you immediately sit back down putting your face into your hands, you mumble into them, “What does this have to do with the boosts we’ve fought?” Change the subject, even though no one but you was on a different one.

 You hear his seat screech as he sits down again as well, “When they woke up none of them could remember anything and they kept crying about mazes and claws.” you lower your hands fear coursing through you, “None of them were boosts before their memory blanked. All of them are dead too.” He’s studying you, watching your reaction.

 “How?” you're not sure what to feel. You remember the chaos in their heads but it never felt like it was anything else but scattered thoughts, _a maze_.

 “Their bodies couldn’t handle the boosts, some of them,” he shakes his head sadly, “ we don’t even know how they survived as long as they did.”

 “You knew about this and you didn’t tell me,” the anger is back, sharp, _a clear path_. You were right, he didn’t trust you. Did he think you were the cause? Is that why he kept following you around?

 “I didn’t want to involve you with something we could handle,” he shrugs nonchalantly like it has no other meaning. **_You’re already telling him too much_ ; _Ortega you’re an idiot_ ; _Goddamnit that’s what I meant by stupid._**

 Your eye’s narrow, your voice cold, “I was fighting those assholes and you didn’t think I should know that not only did they have memory loss but they were all being unwillingly boosted and dying?” ~~_You thought that I shouldn’t know that there was something more dangerous out there than them_~~ ; _claws digging deep_.

 He seems to finally realize exactly what he’s saying, “Wait... No that's-”

 “Yeah, I think I’ve heard enough,” you stand, you’re leaving and you’re not coming back. You don’t know why you thought it was a good idea to come here in the first place. You’re an idiot.

 You feel a hand on your shoulder and you’re almost tempted to bite it off… why would you bite it? You shake your head, trying to refocus and get your thoughts straight. You look up to find Sentinel next to you, a calm uncertain smile on his face.

 “How about we get you some shoes and something to eat first? One of us,” **_definitely not Ortega_** , “can walk you home.”

 You almost snort at his thoughts, and you find yourself rolling your lips together trying not to laugh. Fuck, do not give yourself away. “Fine,” it sounds gruffer than you intended. At least you can get a pair of free shoes and some food out of this. You can disappear afterward, you don’t want any of them knowing where you currently take up residence. Especially Ortega.

…

 Your mouth is watering, because this isn’t food this is something from another plane of existence that transcends taste buds. You’re pretty sure your moaning with each bite but you honestly don’t care. This is the best thing in the entire world and nothing else will ever compare.

 “Have you never had pancakes before?” Anathema is looking at you with fascination. There’s no point lying, it’s pretty clear what the truth is. You try to talk around a mouth full of pancake, syrup and whipped cream but you don’t think what you’re saying is actually being understood. “I’ll just take that as a yes.”

  ** _I should get Ortega in here to witness this_ **Anathema thinks with an evil cackle in his head. You glare at him as you take another bite. Ortega was left in the meeting room with Steel, pouting. Fucking asshole. Why would you even like him? He’s an idiot.

 You find yourself at the end, no more food left to distract you. No more sweet deliciousness to keep out the realizations. It hurt that he didn’t think until now to tell you about what’s been happening. It hurt more than it should, and then you add in the realization that you might have wanted to kiss him… ugh. Why would you even think that? Anathema. It was just Anathema’s thought that threw you off. That’s all. You’ve never been interested in anything like that before why would you suddenly start now?

 You startle as Anathema shakes a bag of brightly colored little chunks in your face. You look at him confused, he’s got a weird grin on his face. “Ever had sour squares before?”

  Do you answer that? His thoughts don’t feel malicious… “No?” you say with uncertainty. _Maybe this was a bad idea_ , you think as his grin grows.

…

 Anathema leaves at some point, which you're happy about because your pretty certain he’s going to get more candy. But it also leaves you alone...with Sentinel.

"So I did actually save you," he's got his arms crossed leaning back against the wall, a look of curiosity on his face as you try on the shoes he’s given you. It hurts but you can ignore the pain.  
 "I have no idea what you're talking about," you stop to pop another sour square candy into to your mouth, you're never eating anything else again if you can help it.   
 The curiosity transforms into humorous disbelief, no matter how hard you try you're probably not getting out of this without admitting it but you can certainly try. "So you weren't at the park when Dynamiter attacked?"  
 "I can honestly say I have no idea who that is," you really don't but it does leave you wondering why most of these villains have such lame names. It sounds like he just took the word dynamite and changed it to a different language. How fucking unoriginal is that?

 “Really? No hurt wrist or,” his eyes narrow, “Stolen wallets?” you can tell it’s not anger he’s feeling, No he’s just taking amusement in your suffering. You’ve fully decided that Anathema is now the only Ranger you like, at least he gives you free food... even if it’s more for his own amusement. Actually, you know what, they’re all assholes and they can all go fuck themselves.

 “Nope,” you pop the p; you’re definitely not backing down now.

 “Did you at least return the other people’s wallets? Hopefully not by way of an excited 12-year-old.” he’s smirking at you. He thinks he’s got it all figured out, but he’s only got one piece of three. You may as well give it to him, it’s not like he’ll figure out that you also stole Ortega’s and Steel’s wallets. He’s not going to let this go anyway.

 “They got there’s in the mail,” you mumble as you finish tieing the shoes. Shit, that still really stings.  
  He’s quiet, but you can feel his thoughts racing trying to figure out the puzzle that is you. **_A kid who got kicked out? Definitely homeless, you remember how easy it was to carry him, how light he was. What led to fighting crime though?_**  You hate that all these people keep calling you kid. You’re not, you’re far from ever being one. Not that any of them would know that. You also admittedly look much younger than you actually are. You really hope that testosterone kicks your beard growth in soon. It’s handled everything else well enough but god fucking damn it, you want facial hair. Maybe you’ll look older with it, hopefully. Fuck what if you look just end up looking like a kid with penned on facial hair?

 “How long did it take for you to grow facial hair?” the question slips out, curiosity overtaking. He had to know how long it takes right? He looks at you shocked by the sudden change of topic, hand nervously rubbing the back of his neck trying to think of an answer.

 “Umm, well uhhh,” he’s like a deer caught in headlights. “For me? A couple years?”

 “A couple years!” you look at him distraught and he holds out his hands as if he could physically slow your mind.

 “For me! It’s different for everyone and can also depend on the dose your taking. It could take a shorter amount of time or longer-”

 “Longer!” You can’t do longer… well actually you can but you really don’t want to.

 “It’s different for everyone!” he’s now panicking with you unsure how to handle this. “Some people never grow facial hair.”

 “What!” No one ever told you that! What the fuck, That’s not fucking fair!

  He’s trying to calm you both down, this was not a conversation he was prepared for, “How long have you been on testosterone? I’m assuming you’re on it?”   

 “A little over a year, oh.. Fuck I’m never going to have facial hair,” The dawning realization and despair grows.

 “Alright, let’s just take a big breath. It’s only been a year, remember mine took two years. You’re okay you just need patience,” he’s feeling so awkward right now and he doesn’t know you have zero patience when it comes to this. You also suddenly realize you can use this to your advantage.

 You let yourself pale a bit before letting your head fall into your hands, “I think I need some water…”

 “Right, I can do that, “ he’s moving fast out of the room. **_Get water and actually think of something that’s not going to send him into a panic_.** Ok, Sentinel has moved back to your approved list. It’s too bad you’ll never see him again.

 You leave the building, unseen and unheard. You’ll go get your things and leave because It’s too much of a risk to stay here now. _Claws grabbing hold_.


	7. A Past Worth Forgetting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tw: Torture and mentions of blood

_“Why do you always do this?” Your old voice, your old face; a mirror image **but it’s not you.** Do you frown at yourself? ~~no that’s wrong~~ **she** frowns at you. “I’ve told you time and time again not to volunteer.”_

_You shrug, wincing as pain surges like electricity running through your veins, “If no one volunteers they pick whomever they don’t like.”_

_“Who do you think they’re going to pick?” Confusion morphs her face. She doesn’t get why you do this. To be honest neither do you. ‘Don’t get attached’ a rule you always fail to follow._

_“It’s not me is it?” she laughs disbelieving, she’s never believed you… she’s never believed anyone. You can’t look her in the eyes. Her laughter stops, an expression of pain or pity? You can’t tell. “Still so stupid and naive,” her voice is harsher than reality._

_“What?” That’s not what she said. Your vision clears and she stands before you, her eyes are bleeding._

_“What a stupid toy you are,” her grin isn’t yours, “So easily swayed, so easily broken.”_

**_B̟̌͋ͣ̑̃̋́r̲̦̼̤͇͉ͤ͋̅̀ͭo̘̤̞̬̙k̐͐ͤ͛̐̐̇e̦̩̻̽̓ͥ̈̃n̥̻̜̖̙̖̐̈ͯ̓͌_ **

_Pain, there’s so much pain._

_She’s gone and left in her wake is a maze of blood and bodies. You’re lost with no direction to follow. You walk forward, your bare feet against the bones of another._

_“Wrong way Ares.” her voice echoes and you feel yourself respond._

_“Don’t call me that,” that’s not your name but it’s the one she called you. “You’ll get us both in trouble.” you keep walking, shivering as a sudden strong breeze blows at you. Pushing against you._

**_W̪͙͇̖̃͂ͩͥͧ͂̋r̼̺̼͈̉ͧ͑ͬ̍̽ó̫̭͓̞̗͉̊ͬ̌̓̈̒̚ṇ̯͙̺͇̫̲̣̐̉͆̒̈̃͗̒ͣg̤̭͚̝̗͕͕̋̊̅͐͊ͮ͆̅̚ ̻̥̮̘̜͈̐ͣ͗͌̔w̯̠ͤͣ͒a̭̖̲̼ͥ̀̐̐y͎͉̦ͩ̑ͪ̌_ **

_She snorts in response, “What can they do to us that they haven’t already?” So much, they can do so much to both of you. “Kiyo,” her whispers echo with each turn you take, singing the name you choose for yourself. “Do you remember the stories?”_

_“The ones you weren’t supposed to read?” you ask but you know that’s what she means._

**_T͇͛ͬ̂h̫͔̜̩͗̃ͭͧͦĕ̸̵̘̻̹̰͎̜̹̊ͬ̀ͬ͐̇ͨ ̶̬͕̻͂͑ͧ͂ͧ͞ͅc͙̦̱̺̭̫̹̩ͤͣ̋̑̏̾l̴̯̬̥ͯ͑ͩ͟a̢͚͔̥̝͙̱ͧ̒͐ͩͫ͐ͬ̄w̉ͧ̏̓ͫͯͫ҉̼̞̰̟͞s̡̯̻͇̯̪̝̙̈́͊͊̈́ͪ̎͐ ̨͇̳̉̒ͭ̎̑̈́͜͡d̤̗̻̘͔͒̓i̤̦̺̬̬̐́̌̀̓̅ͅg̷̨̜̬͖̦̻̫͉̜͗̓̽ͭ̄͐̏̈ ̶̸̫̞̰̼̻̦̗̓̾̓ͮ͞ḑ̹̘̬̰͖̟̩̼ͥͮ͗ͤ̚͠e̙͓͉̩̫̫̮̽̓̚ę͙͉̙̫̜̲̯̺̺ͧ̇̈́ͥͯͣͣ͊p̱̜̤̼̒̿͛͞ẻ̠̫̇͌͋͛ͤr̦͚̱̝ͧ͊͜_ **

_“Do you remember what’s at the center of the maze?” so quiet, barely heard. You stop at a river of blood blocking the only exit from the maze, a mirror image reflected. **It’s not you.**_

_“Do you even remember my name?” the image asks._

_“Seph,” you respond but there is no sound, “Persephone,” you try again but there is nothing left there to say that she heard you. The ground shakes behind you. You remember what lies at the center of the maze._

_…._

You’re woken with a splash of cold water and suddenly you find yourself shivering uncontrollably. You try to move, hands and legs still tied to a chair, pain jolting through you.      

 Fuck!

How many times has this happened? You can’t really remember… this might be the fifth? You look up and he’s still there; still half-naked, his left arm still gone, his skin still rotting off and he still wears that stupid fucking bulls mask. Still so fucking ugly, he didn’t appreciate that comment the first time, you doubt he’d appreciate it the fifth.

He’d probably like you to think that he left you fully clothed as a kindness. A gift from him to you. What a fucking joke, you know it’s not a gift or from the kindness of his heart. The water sinks in freezing in the coldness of the warehouse he has you in. Another way to make you suffer.

“Arrrren’t…yyyou..collldd?” your teeth chatter barely able to say the words. “Probbb..probably shooould put …on a shiiirtt beforrre yyyou.. poke someone’s …eyyye out.” He clicks the device in his hand and pain surges through your entire body. You grit your teeth, trying not to scream. _Claws still trying to break into your head._

He’s trying to break you, but he’s in for a rude awakening, you’ve been through worse and he has no idea how fucking annoying you can be. It’s something Seph taught you; be as loud and obnoxious as you can so no one ever wants to be in your head again. _It’s why she’s dead_.

_**I̖̮̹ͭ͒ͮ̔͂̏̾ͦt͉̩̫̪̻ͭͭͥ̌͐͆̓'͉͉̘͕̺͎ͩș̞͈̞̫̤͎̺̘̋̐͋̑̒ͪ̀ ̝̞̰̍̉ͥͪ̊y̮̟ͨ̂́̆̌̅o̹͔͋͐ͦ͊̿͌ͤ̒u͙̞̱͐̇̒̚r̩̗͙̜͕͕̈̑ͥ ͉̤͕̺̝̤̙̪̏͌̀͛͌̍̾ͮf̹̠̃̓͑͗͊͛̈ả̰̱ͤ̾ͤͬ͐u̪͕͖͓͍͐̐̒̎͑ͧl̞̬ͮ͋ͅt͎͙̘̹͇ͫ̀͑̔̏̔͋͋ ̦̂ͮ́̑̉̿ͥs̳̝̣̟̼͉̳͉̊ͫͣͨ̈̋̿͑ḣ̦̦͇̘ͪ̅͋e̫̩̭̍̃̿̅̀ͯͦ'̘̬͑̽̈̈̚s̭͇̜̫͇̫ͪ͌́ ̟͎̄ͪ̾̈́̏̎̔d̫͚͕ͦ̈̋́ḛ͆å̖͚ͯd̝̲̬̟̙ͯ͒͋͂ͅ**_

You glare at him… he doesn’t know shit, he can’t control shit. He thinks he can break your mind but all he can do is make a maze of what you already think, twisting and warping it until he thinks you feel like he does; crazed and betrayed. Then he would try to erase the evidence that his claws had ever dug into your head. That’s what he tried to do to the others. They still remembered though, the claws that tore through their minds changing it so they couldn’t find who they were before he pumped them full of boost and let them loose on the city; broken and wrong. Just like he wants to do to you.

**_Ṋ͖̼̳͈̗͔̉ͮͧͩo̪̞̼͓̦͚͇̮͂͌͊̊̏̎ͫ ̳͙̹͑ͥ̄ͤͫͧͬ̾͒o̩̖͇̱̓ͮ̃̃ͨ́͑̃ͯn̙̤͓̰̲̳̘̗ͧ͊̍̽e̗̰̬ͬͬ̍ͧ ̼͕̙͎̱͚͕͈͓ͧ̓w͖͖͍̭͖͙̎̏ͭ͑ĭ̝͚̫̠̱͇̹͖ͮ͒̀̂͋̐̃̈́l͔̭̮̱͙̱̊̍ͯ͑͗ͅͅl̺̟̜̂̈͊̒̿ͪ̇͑ ̼̭͉͓̻͔̅̃̓́͒c̙͙̱̯̘͂̑͗̌͑ͮͦ̀ͅő̞̫̗͚͌ͦ̂̐m͍̖̥̓ͮe̱̞͍̝̖͇͕̣̊ͤ̆ͥ_ **

 Fucking dumbass, you’re already fully aware no one’s coming to save the day. _No one ever has. ~~Ortega has~~._ Once, he helped you once and it meant nothing to you. _~~It meant everything to you.~~ _At some point, he probably would have used that against you, used you for his own gain.

**_H̞͚͎̻̬͚͐̓͒̐a̪̲͓̖ͮ̏s̗̤͈̳̼̆́̔ͧͤͅṋ̳̱͇̲̲̿̅̾ͯͨͪ̒͆ͥ'̥͕̺͉̇ͯ̀̊͒̿̔̂ṱ̪̣͓͚͕̹͒̌̓̒̏̒ ͔͑͗̽̑̇̄͌ͪ̑h͚͓̞̘͉̘̠̩ͬͩͤ̀̌̂̄̚e̺͈͗͊̎̊ ̹͉̝͙̄̎̃̇̿̊̂̐̚a̰ͭͯ̀̿̈́͑ͤl̝̩̿͋͑ͬ͐̾ͤ̋r̰̱̺ͮ̐͋e̮͚̯̝̖͎̝ͪ͌̎͛ͦ̚ͅa̰͓̦̩͕̞̼̖͍ͪͦͣͦ̅̒ͨd̰̥̺̎̽̓̽ͫ̒ͧẙ̥̩̮̻̤̟̀̎ͤ͗_ **

He has already, using you to take down his enemies and letting you walk into danger with no warning. He doesn’t really care about you. None of them do. You’re an oddity that they find amusement in. Nothing more and nothing less. You’re just a broken toy-

“ **Stop It**!” that’s not what you think… it’s not…right? Another click, another surge of pain. You can’t stop the scream this time.

  
  


**_Y̹̮ͧ̈́o͇̹͙̗̝ͯͥͮu̪͍͒͒̇ͭ͛ͯ̅ ̤͉͙̼̀̉̆ͯ̃ͤw̬͕̝͇͍̖ͧ̇̄ͮ̾i̠̙̽ͮ̅̌ͧ́ͥl̹̦̤͇̫͔ͤ͌̂͗̍̏̓̽l̲̭ͭ̐̓ͥͣ̎̍ ̱ͭ͑ͩͨ͛ͪ̊̋̚ȯ̘̪͚͌ͪͬͬ͊́b͓̲̫͚͙͆ͮ͋̽ͦe̻͎̪̱͙̗̻̙͓͗ͥȳ͓͇͙̂ ̘̗ͯͦͧ̋̉l̟͈̳͉̹̉͐̚î͚̤̦̼̤̟̥ͭt͉̖͍̥̠̿̾͑̏͒̍ͮ̽t̬̯͕̣͖͙̙̻͐̈͂l͎͕̂̊̂͒e̫͚̹͚͗ͧͧ͋͋̏̒̓ ̖͚̣̈́̅m̲̲͔̮̼͖̱͓̅̔̔̃̽ͦ̉ͯo̥̺͔͍̲̲͔̺͐ͬu̳͙̩̳ͩ͆̎s̭̗͓̺͒̀͑̔ͬ̌͋ė͓͙̈̈̏_ **

It hurts, everything hurts and you can’t think your way out of this situation. You need to think you need to foc- A cold hand on your shoulder, claws against your neck. Your breath hitches, fear hammers in each heartbeat.

  
  


**_Y̺̹̳͚̗̓̓͒o̘̖̝̘̐ͦ͐ͣ̔̎ͅu̮̣̐̽ͬ̾ͬ̂ͧ̃'̰̖̜͓͉̘͓̯͆̾̆̏͋́͆ṛ̟͚̟̻̲ͦ̑͊ͤ̐ͭ̀ͮͨͅe̟̲̞͍̝̰̫͇̙̿͐͛ͩ ̘͔͍̠͊̀̅̊ͤa͍͕͉̜̦̦̜̣̒͂͌̈̓ͩl̺͍͈̳ͬ͗r͈̩̟̐́͑̌̅ͮ͋̐e̲͕̺̊̒͂a͍͎̥̣͓̻ͧͤd̘̜̯̜̹͔͐ͨͭ̃y͇͖̬͙̦͛̑ͮ̍ͪ͛͋̉͑ ͔̠ͥͪͥͨͣ̋̏b͖͖̜̙͇͔̰̋ͩ͋̈̄r̪̩̦̙̘̜ͨ̒̊̍̀̇̇o̬͉̭̐ͮ̇͒̈̉ͬk͙͓̭̺̭̼̏͗͒ͪḛ̲̂̍͗̅́̌̓̾ͭñ͔̣̙̫̻̤̠ͦ̑̌͂_ **

 The claws dig deep into your neck, the next scream you let out is choked with a sob. You can feel the blood dripping down, is he going to kill you? You didn’t think he would but you don’t know anymore. You’re afraid. ~~_You’re already broken_.~~    

  _You’re forgetting_ , a soft whisper accompanied by a laugh that sounds like bells, _Don’t you remember? Don’t ever let them want to be in your head._

 You remember, and your laughter grows, hysterical, deafening him as he seeks to dig even deeper. He pulls back and flinches, you can feel his uncertainty flooding his own conscious. **Have I broken it beyond repair?** _No, you just didn’t realize exactly what you’ve caught._

You can’t verbally say much, it’s too cold for that but you can sure as fuck scream it with your mind over and over again, along with flooding him with images that he would absolutely despise. Images of Ortega laughing softly looking at you like he’s found something incredible; images of Sentinel awkwardly trying to talk to you about beards; images of Anathema giving you way too much candy and being overjoyed by your reactions. An image of that one time you met Steel… alright, admittedly that one was just for you to relive the look on his face.

And of course, you add in something you’ve noticed all villains hate…getting their name wrong. Fuck! You! Tartar Sauce guy!

The anger you feel from him is dwarfed by yours. He doesn’t get to break you, he doesn’t get to touch you and he for sure as fuck doesn’t get to tamper with how you feel! The punch he throws your way is expected and the blissful blackness that follows is beyond welcome.

_…._

_“Still pissing people off I see,” her voice comes from above you and you look up to find her swinging her legs as she sits on the wall of the maze. “And look at you, getting so easily pissed off by a bug… or is he more of Taurus?”  She cocks her head as if to truly contemplate it. You know she really doesn’t care._

_“Well, I did learn from the best,” you say with a shrug, “Anger cures all. Isn’t that what you said?” It’s clearer this time, you feel more focused. Something must be wrong in the land of the living._

_“Oh please. Ares, that temper has always been yours,” she laughs and you can feel the skulls by your feet laugh with her. “You always took offense at every little thing but they never knew,” she picks a flower off a vine, “you were so good at hiding.” She crushes it in her hand, “and running.”_

_You stare at her, neither of you break eye contact, “I’m not going towards the center.” That’s were his madness lies._

_She rolls her eyes, “I’m not talking about that.” she jumps down and when she stands, you are equal; a broken image with no reflection. Her head tilts as she studies you. “Huh.”_

_“What?” you look down, to find you’re in your gear, when did that happen?_

_She’s smiling at you, “You never did let anyone tell you what to like.” She pokes you in the chest, right where the cat head is on your jacket. “And your voice is different… Did little Ares figure out why I really chose **his** name?”_

_“You…” she always did know better. ~~Until she didn’t~~. You shake your head and turn to walk, you’re wasting time here._

_“Wrong way,” she laughs and when you turn the maze has changed. No more blood or bodies, just a broken ruin covered in flowers._

_…._

Your eyelids feel heavy when you try to open them against the light shining into your face at an awkward angle. You breathe in, ignoring the soreness of your body, and look up. He’s not there. Fucking finally, you were pretty sure that fucker was never going to leave.

You’re still so fucking cold but you’re not soaked with water as you had thought. A trick? Even so, you might be numb enough that it could help you work through some of the pain your about to inflict on yourself… theoretically…hopefully… fuck this is going to hurt. You take in another breath and then you pull back on your left hand using the restraint to pop your thumb out of its socket.

You hear the crack before you feel the pain, “Fuck!” you grit your teeth, shit shit shit. You hate your ideas, they all fucking suck. You wiggle your hand forcing it through the bind on your wrist, ignore the pain. You gasp as you finally get your hand free and immediately use your other tied hand to pop your thumb back in. No time to waste, keep moving. You reach down, sliding your pant leg up slightly to grab the small knife taped to your leg. Your paranoia finally coming in handy.

Too bad for the asshole who didn’t bother to search you, you’re going to be gone before he even realizes his mistake. The binds are cut easily and you tear out of the chair ignoring the pain that every movement brings, ignoring the blood that covers you and the chair. You had thought it was all in your head but the way your body screams in protest tells you that a lot of what he did to you really happened.

Fuck. Don’t think about it, just keep moving. You get out and you leave this fucking city far behind.

 _So good at running_ , an echo of the past whispers.

 Fuck…Don’t…please…Don’t do this. You keep trying so hard to forget but he’s brought everything back front and center… Fine. You’re not going to run, you’ll deal with this fuckhead even if you have to break your rule of no killing. He needs to be stopped, ~~_he needs to pay_~~.

Footsteps echo off the walls of the warehouse, those aren’t yours. Shit, you didn’t mean stop him right now! Your legs can’t support you and you find yourself on the ground. Fuck fuck fuck.

“Sidestep!” that’s… you look up and Ortega is running towards you looking like a mix of absolute panic and relief.

“Rubbelguy,” your laughing even as tears stream down your face, it’s so funny. Of course, he found you, doesn’t he always? He’s running and then he skids on his knees as he nears you, he’s so close even as reaches out to touch you but he stops inches away, hesitating.

 “You look like shit,” he says instead of doing what you want him too and you can’t help that your laughter is turning hysterical.

 “Do you say that to all your dates?” you don’t look at him, your face hurts from your smile. Just another pain to add to the list. “You showed up late too.”

“Sorry, there was traf-” your fall forward into his chest breathing hard through the tears that overcome your laughter. He goes quiet before you find his arms gently placed around you, letting you cry in silence.

_The claws claim their prize._


	8. Intermission

**Sentinel:**  
 You open the fridge grabbing a cold bottle of water, you hadn’t anticipated the change in conversation. You sigh and drag your free hand over your face, this is almost as worse as the time Themmy asked you for advice. At least Themmy is fully aware that you’re not exactly the best at talking about personal things… which you suspect is why he asked you.  
  You don’t doubt Themmy’s honesty to really know the answers, you are just aware that he likes to tease people… mercilessly. The kid- Sidestep was a different matter altogether. You don’t get exactly the same impression from him, he’s more… naive? The word doesn’t feel right but it’s the closest you can think of.  
 He’s not so much naive in the sense that he’s trusting or is ignorant of how the world really works. More like…he hasn’t experienced normal daily things other people have. It makes you wonder about what his home life was and is currently like. He’s obviously living on the streets; dirty clothes, looks like the closest thing to a shower he’s had in the last couple days is standing outside in the rain, the way he dug into the pancakes like it was the last meal he’ll ever have.   
  Sidestep is young but he’s probably got more life experience than Ortega really suspects or at least more than what Ortega has told you he suspects. Which can be bottled down to _‘this kid is amazing he single-handedly defeated 3 people without breaking a sweat!’_  and _'I can’t tell if he likes me. Sentinel if someone tells you that they’d tell you to your face they don’t like you does that mean they’re telling you they don’t like you or that they do?’_  
  Goddamnit, you slam the fridge closed and let out another deep sigh, you work with grown ass adults who act like teenagers. At least Chen and Elyse aren’t like this. If they were you probably would have retired early from all the stress these people give you on a daily basis.   
 You slowly start heading back to the room Sidestep is in, trying to buy yourself time to think. You need to figure out a subject that isn’t going to immediately lead to both of you panicking… Okay mostly making sure you don’t panic and can calmly handle the situation. Maybe try to convince him to stay longer until you all can figure out what happened and what the threat may be.  
You all to soon find yourself standing at the door, hesitating. Shit, maybe you should have prepared yourself for more personal questions instead. He’s probably going to want to ask more and you don’t exactly want to discourage him, you just don’t know how to talk about it. Goddamnit maybe you should get Themmy to do this instead. He wanted to talk to someone about it, they could figure it out together.  
 Shit, you’re supposed to be older and 'wiser’; you’re supposed to set an example for others. Who decided to let you be a role model? You’re a terrible role model, you can barely be a functioning adult and hero!  
 "What are you doing?“ Anathema’s voice comes from your left but you stay staring at the door like it might bite you.  
 "Questioning why I talk to people,” you turn to find Anathema’s arms filled to the brim with a variety of candy bars, “What are you doing?”  
 "Getting absolutely adorable reactions from Ortega’s crush so I can tell Ortega he’s an ass and he got to miss said reactions,“ he shrugs nonchalantly trying to make sure not to drop anything.  
 "Crush?” You raise your eyebrow, you hadn’t gotten that impression from Ortega. Just that he really admired the kid. Is Sidestep even a kid? He looks young but appearances can be deceiving.   
  Anathema’s laugh brings you out of your thoughts, “Ortega talks about him non-stop. If it’s not a crush I think we should all be very worried that Ortega might be just a bit too obsessive over him.”  
 You try your best not to sigh, it feels like that’s all you do these days, but it still makes its way out, “Goddamnit Ortega.” That would explain so much and you bet Ortega doesn’t even realize it.   
 "We also probably shouldn’t be talking about this were Sidestep could easily listen to us through the door,“ Anathema grins as he says it. Probably hoping Sidestep is indeed listening through the door.   
 You shake your head and open the door, "Side-” you cut yourself off realizing the room is empty. Shit  
  
….

  “What do you mean he’s gone!” Ortega is pacing back and forth a look of panic on his face, “How did no one see him leave! How does a kid who looks like we found him out back in the garbage walk out of here without being seen by people or cameras!”

  “Wow Ortega,” Anathema gives him a look of disbelief, “Insult your ‘ _friend_ ’ when he’s not here why don’t-cha. Also, I’m so telling him exactly what you just said **when** we find him.”

  Ortega gives him a withering look and all you can do try to rub the migraine away. This whole situation was ridiculous, Sidestep probably left because he didn’t want to deal with any of you. You honestly don’t blame him because right now you feel the same.

  “Panicking won’t help anyone. He most likely left because he wanted too,” you say trying to calm the situation but when has that ever really worked?

  “He clearly got hit by the same shit all the others did!” Ortega slams his fist into the wall, he freezes there breathing heavily. “The fucking idiot never thinks.” Sounds like someone you know.

   Steel steps forward as serious as ever, “Ortega he might-”

  “Fuck off Chen!” He turns glaring at Steel, “I don’t have time for your bullshit conspiracies!” He moves to leave, grabbing his jacket off a nearby chair, “I’m going to find him before something else does.”

  None of you bother trying to stop him, as he slams the door shut behind him. Steel lets out a long sigh, shaking his head in disapproval, “He’s just going to run around completely lost. I’ll see if I can get some kind of APB out.”

 “I’ll try to see what I can find from the air,” you say turning to leave; Ortega’s not going to rest until he knows Sidestep is safe. Admittedly, you can’t help but be worried as well.

  “I guess I’ll go check out his home,” you freeze turning slowly to glare at Anathema who tries to look like a picture of innocence. “What?”

  “And how exactly do you know where he lives?”

  “I spotted him in his getup a week ago when I was… doing something,” he shrugs and your eye’s narrow. You’ll have to question exactly what that something is later.

  Steel seems to have a matching migraine as he rubs his forehead, “Sentinel go find Ortega. Anathema take me there so we can hopefully find Sidestep or at least some clues.”

 You really hope they find something.


	9. End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tw: mentions of blood

You hold tight to Ortega’s right side as he tries to help you fully stand and walk. “Where’s Tartar Sauce fucker?” his grip tightens into your side as he shifts your weight, “Fuck!” You groan in pain almost doubling over. His grip immediately loosens and he gives you an apologetic smile.

“Sorry,” he shifts you gently this time trying to accommodate you, “Tartarus ran off somewhere. The others gave chase and I came to get you.”

“You’re all here?” you ask confused. You hadn’t expected Ortega to come to your rescue and you certainly didn’t expect any of the other Rangers to come as well. _~~A brush of thoughts against yours~~. _You shake your head trying to clear your mind.

“What you thought we’d all just leave you here?” he asks looking confused and hurt. Like you should have expected him to be the hero.

 “Honestly… yes,” You look away guilty and embarrassed, maybe you should have known better.

 He doesn’t say anything in response and you can’t bring yourself to look back at him. You should have trusted him and the others, but trust is a hard thing for you to have with anyone. You already feel like you’ve given them too much just by letting them see your face and letting them know personal information about you.

“Why?” the question is sudden and you feel yourself answer without thinking.

 “No one tries to save a broken toy,” you sound angry but in truth, you’re just tired. _~~You didn’t mean to say that~~._ You meant to say that, you want him to know the truth.

 “Broken toy? Wha-” He suddenly brings you both to a halt, “Do you hear that?” you try to listen but he’s talking again before you get the chance, “Shit! I think he’s back with friends.”

“Are you sure it’s not the other Rangers?” you ask confused, there are footsteps coming towards you both but nothing to distinguish that’s it’s Tartar or any ‘friends’ he might have. He didn’t really seem to give the impression that he had allies or that he kept any of his ~~_experiments_~~ gifted around either.

“Can’t you feel him?” Ortega whispers and when you look up at him he seems to have a far off look in his eyes, staring in the direction of the echoing steps.

_wrong_

 “What-aahhggg!” pain shots through your head, your hands move trying to cover your ears like that would stop the sound. _It won’t_. Ortega’s grip tightens around you.

 

  **L̻̬̬ͦ̊ͥ̾̿͂ḯ͔̰̤͕̣̳͊̃̓t̥̙͕͉̽̂͌ͪͨ̉t̺̻͊͛l̼̳̦̺͔ͫͨ̈́͂̎e̲̟̤̍̽̈́̄̌ͩ ͔͉̥̭̲̟̱̬͋̾̄̎M̺̗̘̈́̑̍̿̀o̪̞͎̙̖̙͌́ͫͣ̀̎ͅͅu̺̳ͣ͗̐s͖̥̩̟͍̮̗͔̤ͩ̔ͣ̑e̳͉̤͋̀̽ͭ͊͐ͭ**

  “Fuck, you’re right,” you wince, everything still feels so raw… not raw enough to not throw a barb or two at him though, “For once.”

  “Not the time,” Ortega bites back. ~~_Wrong_~~. “Do you think you can fight?”

 “Yeah,” you wince as you move away from him, out of his grip, trying to stand on your own, “I need to pay that asshole back,” anger courses through you. He won’t get away with bringing back ghosts you thought were gone. ~~_She was never gone._~~

 “Do whatever you need to do,” he looks at you seriously, “I mean it, he’s too dangerous to let get away.”

   “He’s not going to get away,” you bite back, flipping your knife in your hand. **_He needs to pay._**

    _Please be okay._

You shake your head again as you catch a stray thought. Who’s? **_Ortega’s_**. Of course, it’s his thoughts he’s right next to you.

    ~~ _WRONG_~~

     “Get ready,” Ortega says to you and you nod at him. They burst through the door leading to your torture chamber. ~~_Tartar fucker_~~ Tartarus and three others who wear a similar helmet but unlike him, they’re fully clothed. You sneer at them and attack as they draw near, he needs to be stopped.

  ~~ _“Stop! Sidestep we’re here to help!”_~~

  
  
  


  **“̞ͪͣ͋̏̎̔̀T͍̖̗͓̪̯͆̓̔ͮ̄̿̓̈̄h̙̞͔̺̠̮̓̅̆̿e̮̤͗͐ ͖̫͎́ͭľ̗̻ͮi̜̺͉͍̪̜͍̮͗͋̈́̃t̲̙̬͙ͨ͒̀ͪ̉̆t͍̗̣͛ͣ͑ͭ̏l̳̳̹͔̼͖̉͛͐̄̾͗e̦͎̙̬̬͖̊̿̾̎̐͒ͤ̆ ͕̼̘̊ͣͥͯ̅ḿ̞̼͚̼͈̯̪̰o̱̭̔̉̈̈̈́̇u͙̜͇͈̬͈̻̥̔ͨ͒ͭs͈̦̺̺̞̰̈ͫ͌͋ͬͪ̒ͮ̃e͇͋̋ͯ ͍̥̰̥͎͍ͩͤ͛̂̇̚t͇͉̊ͦh͖͂͂͊͑̉́͒͛ͅi̟̥̻̗̻ͧ̍n͓̗̹̋̽ͩ̋͒k̝͖̮̫̦ͩͬͪș̫̱͋̔̂ͮ̌͆ͮ̂̚ ̻̻̮̑͋ͬ̿̉̐ͥͩͩi͈̟͍̙͇̽̈́̄̈́ť͎̙͇̿ͬͯ͑ ̙͇̖̌̍ͧ̓̈́̎c̪͙̎̉̌͛̈́ͭ̈́ͪ̎a̜̙͉͒͋̄̋ͬ͒́n̮͇̐̑͗̂ ̪̍̐ṯ̣͎̥͍̦̊ͭ̃̾̂r̲͋̂͌̓ͯu̥̗͈̯̼̖̐͛̉ͥ̎͒̈ͅl͚̱̱͉̻̣͍̯̔̓̒y̦͛̔ͬͭ͂̐ ̣͕̭͖ͬ̾ͧ̄ͧͣͨê̙̳̠̪̥͕̰ͩͮ̑͆̐͌͂̎s̝͔̲͍͚̹ͭ͐c̰͇͕̗̰̘̲̟ͬ̒̊͌a̝̹̪͕͊̎̒͛̄p͚͕̥̫̞͈͓̲̪ͯͮͣë̝́̃ͮ̌̚ͅ?̬̩͉͓̘ͭͨ̇ͤ̇̚ͅ ̰̙͓̖̟͇̝͒̆̽̋̂ͫ̿H̰͉̠̫̦͒͐͊̀͐ͫͤõ̘͉̌̽͑͗̃ẉ̟̗̫̦͕̘̟͙̐̍ ̳̣̐ͥ͗͋q̖̭̰̬̹ͬu͇̺̖̹̓͂ͦ̎̅ͤ̌ͦả͔̱̰̙̱͈̪̽̓̔͋́͐̓ĩ͈̖̼̘̊̽̒̉ͮn̲̭̭̭͗̊ͥ̈́ͥ́͊t͇̩͇̼̓ ̜ͩ͌͒̓̆ͅa̦̪̞͉͓͌̈ ͇̣͙̹ͬ̉̏̆ͅt̝̗̭͓͍̦̘͗̍h̲̺̫̜̲͂ͭ̽͋̒͑̄ǒ̘̝͈̭̏͒͗ͩ̈̒̍u̩̤̠̱̹̻̜ͣͦ̉̆̒̒̅ͦg̼̻̜͚̜̗̹̖͖͆̍͋̊̔̑h̜̻̺ͫ̍ͭ̃̇ͩt͈̺̬̭̳̝͔̒͆̑̓.͍̦͚̲ͦ͊ͪ́̿͋̔”̝̘͓̈͌̌ͨ̉̋ͦ̿**

  
  


You slash forward but he expertly dodges trying to back away from you. You kick out trying to get him off balance, he catches your leg flipping you to the ground.

~~_“Hey, it’s me! It’s Ortega-Shit”_ ~~

  
  


**“̦̯̠̲̲̰̖̲͆ͦͮ͌ͬ̄Ỹ̙͎͂̿ͭ͗͆o̘͈̫̣ͫͤͨ̃̎̚û̱̭̦̭͈̬̩̄ͭ̎͂̏̆̇’̖ͧͬ̌ͫl̳͕͉͉̻͑̀̂͂̇ͭ̐ḷ͕̖͉̦͙̌ͮͅ ̲̘̣͗s̮͚̱̰͚͋̄͌ủ̘̱̭̠̻̳̮̆̍̔ͭ̔ͦͅf͉̩̫̟̱̗̆̆ͪ̿f̫̹̻̻͚̱͕̘̎̈̔̃e̗̫̠ͭͭ̓̇r͈̭̼͈̺̯ͯ̉̌ͭͬ̿̀͊ͨ ̪̪̦̲̞̰͓͍͆l͉̤͛ͪ̓i̝̖̜͒k̥̫̖̏̍ͩe̦̝̝̻̍ͭ̑̄̋̃ͪͣ ͈̣͑͆͛̑a̟̼̲̙̪̘͙̯̓ͩ͊ͧ͆ͬ͐̓͆l̬̪̗̥͔͉̔̉̃̀̽͑̍l̯̭̦ͬ̉̎͆̊̐̔ͮ ̖̓̽͂̿ͨ̅ṱ̟̙̥̗̓͂̉ͦ̀͋͊h̭̅̊̔ͤ̌ͯͯ͌͒e̹͈͚͋̎͊͒͑ͭ̈̈́̂ ͈̯̟̳̱̲̹̋̐ͧͅr̖̥͙͓͖ͨ̔́̎͊̒̚e̽̂ͩͭ͒ͅs̫͚̱̠̮̹͙̰͈̿̓̎ͫ͛ͩt̹̰̖̪̣̟̺̟̃̓̉̈́ͤ̓ͤ.̖͙̌”̼͕͎͉͇̰̰̞̾́͒ͨ͌ͫ**

  
  


 You kick him off smoothly rolling to avoid him and the others. Ortega is trying to keep most of them off you but he’s failing fast. **Finish this**. You slash forward and Tartarus defends with his left arm ~~_wrong_~~ , your blade biting into his skin.

~~_“Fuck! Sidestep it’s me! Ugghh fuck you’re going to make me say… It’s Rubbleguy!”_ ~~

  
  


  **“̮̣̰͌͑ͦ̎Ỷ̺̤͎̖̮͈͋̃o̤͚͍ͦͨ́͛ũ͎̪̀̄̾̐̌̔̈́’̦͍̯͈̦̗̪̎́̃̄ͨͥ͗͊l̺̬̩ͩ̄ͯ̎l̩̝̩͈͕̋ͧ̆͌͗ ̟̰̬̑ď̞̞͕ͩͬ̓͗̍͊i̝̟̮̝̳̗̳̮͎̍ͣ̓̔ͣͮͩě̞͙̖̗ ͇̀̇i͕̻̰͙̟̬͂́̅̑͌̾͛n͓̹̬̹̹͔͍̳ͪ̅̔̏̑̓̿ͦ ̭͈̼̘̭̔͋ͩ̏̀ͩp̰̜̫͑͛ͬi͇͚̞̐̽ͨͦ̈ͅe̯͇̖̻̼͓̩ͦ̉͐̾ͪͫͬc̠͙̻͎̣̬̾̐̃͆̈̑ͩ̍e̲̪̫̮̔̚ś̩̜̼͍̱̫ͮ̉ͮ̑ ̞̮̃͆̃ͤͬͧ̓ͥͤl̙̹̣̦̳̑ͦ̊ḭ̱̻͍͎ͧͨ́̃̏͆̄k͎̜̗͎̮ͦͭ͐ͩͬ͋e̩̺̯̯̲̗͆ͯ͊̔ͅ ͙͚̘͎̇͋̏͐ͯ̔̂̇s̰͉̰̤͖͙͇͐̽̉h̘̗͉̟̼̳̗̥̊ͮͥe̘̳̤͍̅̿̀̄̔ ̼̖̩̳͇̺̬͍̌̔̓̔̏ͅd̞̱͚̩̤͇̻̝ͮͩͬ̊ͦ͛̌̾ǐ̳͓̙̬͎͙̟̣́͐́̊ͣḍ̞̑̓͐̐.̲͈͈̹̬͓̮͚ͥͭ̉͛̃ͨ̐̚”̺̯̜̂ͣͩ̾̈ͭ̉ͬ͆**

  
  


 You let out a frustrated scream and suddenly there are arms around you as one of Tartarus’s allies grabs hold of you but you quickly break their grip, headbutt sent back into their ~~_face_~~ helmet. You dodge another of his allies just as Ortega changes his attack to Tartarus, slamming into him and sending them both to the floor. Wrestling each other, _someone has a knife_.

 ** _Shit, what’s wrong with him?_** The thought feels wrong even as you slash forward into the person attacking you, cloth ripping under your blade. Something’s wrong, you can’t feel their thoughts. ~~_You can_~~. You can’t predict what they’re going to do. ~~_They’re trying to help you_.~~ There is no maze to navigate nor is there a thread to follow.

~~**WRONG**~~

 Ortega is stumbling back away from Tartarus trying to get away, _he’s hurt_ , “Sidestep a little help here!” You dodge past the others, knife ready to impale Tartarus, _a flash of pink_. You stop in front of him your eyes trying to refocus. You hesitate… somethings wrong. Ortega’s standing behind you, so close to you, _claws against your neck_ , “Kiyo! Finish him!”

**WRONG**

You turn, your flesh tearing, you’re screaming in pain as you plunge the dagger into his side, into Ortega’s side..You stabbed Ortega! You let go of the knife in shock trying to back away but his grip holds firm, claws digging into your shoulder. He’s absolutely seething, glaring at you as his right hand tightens its grip into your neck. You can’t breathe.

 

**Ÿ̱̩̭̙̳̈́̀́ͩo͔̰̗̜̬ͬͦ̇͒ͧu̟̼̼͇̮̰͇̥̩̿̂ͧ͒͛ͧ̒ ̗̤̼͍̤͚̯̝̖ͥͯͣs͈̦̼̮̙͕̪̼ͮ̈h̰̉ͯ̎̌ͧͣͮo̰̲͚͔͇̩̜ͬ̃ͩͦ̒̾ͅȗ͇̲̝̭͂ͤ̅̍ͯ̌ͅl̗͇͇̖̅ͨ̅d͈̺̯͙̆̐ͦ̔̎̆ͧͮ ͎͕͔͍̺̈́̉̾ͅh̖̞͎̻̹͙ͮ̅ͤa̲͖̖̬ͤ͊ͅv̹̠̥̟ͥ̑̂͑ẻ̼͇͇̼̎̈̂͑̀ ̖̌̓̓̌l̮͎̟͇̩̝͔̮̉ͯ̅i̮̭̙̞͎͍͓͒̑ͮ̽̈́s̭̀͛ͧͬ̇́ṭ̘̦̙͙͍̑ẻ̥̜̮͎̮̱͍͚̺̂̅n͉͓͓̻̰ͥͥ̋̊͂̚e̗̠̭̬͈͚̮͓̾̄̈͛ͭ̎d̙̥͉̰̫̫̬̲ͧ͛͑̀̿**

 An arm wraps around your waist, a hand placed over the claws killing you, “¡Vete a la mierda!” The arm pulls you back tearing you from the claws as a strong electrical charge crackles along Ortega’s hand and into Tartarus’s claw who responds with a scream, immediately pulling away from the both of you. A bulls mask faces you, face hidden behind a real mask. It’s Tartarus… he… you let him touch you… you thought he was Ortega…you feel sick.

“Estás bien, te tengo,” he whispers soothingly to you. He must feel you shaking in his arms, _does he even know you can understand him?_

Tartar fucker watches you all silently, bloodied claw over the knife in his side. He growls in frustration, he’s thoughts hurt your head still. He cocks his head at all of you, thoughts suddenly silent and then there’s someone else behind him. _A smile you don’t remember_. Your vision blurs just as Steel moves in to attack and then all you can see are backs giving chase. He’s gone.

  You sag in Ortega’s arms, too weak to push him off as nausea overcomes you. “Let go,” you’re shaking uncontrollably; you want him to stop touching you, everything feels wrong.

“Shit,” Ortega helps you to the ground, you can feel the blood pouring from your neck, “We need some help here!” He’s still touching you, trying to help you stay upright.

“Fucking stop touching me!” you yell at him because you can’t do anything else. You feel so drained and tired. He let’s go and you can finally breathe again.

“Sidestep, listen we need to get you to a-”

“I swear to fucking god if you say doctor or hospital I will go find Tartar Sauce fucker, take my knife back, and stab you with it,” you hiss at him. You did not go through all of that shit just to end back up in _their_ hands. He looks like he wants to argue but he shows some rare self-restraint and doesn’t.

“We need to do something about your neck,” he says letting you choose what to do, even though he clearly wants you to go to the hospital.

“Give me my jacket,” you hold out your hand and he unties your pink jacket from around his waist and places it into your hand. You start weakly tearing the worn sleeves, much of which is only being held together by tape, pressing a few strips to your neck to stop the bleeding. You were going to have to find a new jacket soon anyway… it still really sucks, you liked that jacket.

 “Sidestep-”

 “Kiyo,” you say not meeting his eyes, “I never told you my name.”

“Kiyo,” he says testing it out and you look up to find him smiling at you softly before he groans in pain as he sits back, “You know I really didn’t expect you to kick all our asses so easily.”

“Well you should of at least known your ass is pretty easy to kick,” you smile as he throws a playful glare your way.

“At least I can count this as another save in my book,” he shrugs looking at you smugly.

“Not really, If I hadn’t realized something was wrong you’d be…” you gulp fighting down another wave of nausea. He’d be dead… You would have killed him. “You know what.. I’ll just let you have this one.”

You both sit in silence as you wait for the others. Until you remember that you’re holding pieces of your jacket to your neck.

“Wait…why do you have my jacket?” You look at him confused, and he tries his best not to look at you now.

“Hmmm? Oh uhh… Wow, the others are taking forever. We should really go check on the others,” that was the lamest attempt at changing the topic you’ve ever seen.

“Ortega,” you glare at him.

“Would you believe me if I said it’s Anathema’s fault?” he’s really avoiding your gaze now.

“You fucking knew where I lived!”

“No…maybe..kinda?” he’s scratching his chin looking at the ceiling, before looking at you with concern, “It’s more Anathema knew where you lived. Speaking of which we can find you a better place-”

“No, you fucking won’t. In fact, don’t worry I’m definitely not fucking living there anymore!”

“Oh? Did you find a place during the 42 hours you were missing? Or are you taking up residence here?” he sweeps his hand out giving you an exasperated look.

“I wouldn’t tell you because what I look for in a place is somewhere you can’t find me!” that would lead to so much more trouble, what if he sees something he shouldn’t. “I don’t need you sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong!”

“Is this really how you guys act?” Anathema’s voice comes from behind you, you try to turn but all you can do is double over in pain. “Shit are you-”

“Don’t touch him,” Ortega says moving to stop Anathema hand from reaching out towards you.

“I’m fine,” you grit out through your teeth, “where’s Tartar fuck?”

“Well-”

“We should discuss this elsewhere,” Steels voice cuts in. He’s studying you with a glare, **_Untrustworthy_**. Well, fuck you too asshole.

 “I think we sho-”

 “Steel’s right and Sidestep obviously needs medical help,” Sentinel adds in looking at you worried.

 “Can I say anything without being interrupted?!” Anathema yells pouting even when everybody’s attention turns to him. “I think we should get Sidestep medical supplies so he can treat himself and then food,” he points at you and you roll your eyes, “Then we give the news.”  

  Sentinel frowns, “He should see a doc-” he cuts himself off as Ortega waves at him frantically mouthing no.

 You feel yourself laughing; this all feels so ridiculous and unbelievable, they really did come to your rescue.  

…

“What do you mean he got away!” You yell, smacking the meeting table in anger, flinching as you pull your bandages. Fuck.

“We lost him when he dived into the water,” Sentinel says arms crossed, expression furrowed in worry. No stray thoughts this time, you’ve built your shield back up making it as strong as possible. Your mind is still raw and trying to make sense of what really happened and what didn’t.

“He’s probably dead anyway,” Anathema shrugs, “The water isn’t exactly a swim friendly zone and he never surfaced for air.” He’s trying to reassure you but it doesn’t help. Tartar fucker can easily alter perceptions like he did with you, _after hours of torture_. You shiver, that’s right he would have needed time to do anything like that with the Rangers. Maybe he really is dead.

You sit back into the chair, with an exhausted sigh, hands rubbing your eyes. You haven’t slept at all, afraid to let your guard down around them and absolutely terrified that you might remember something you’ve forgotten. You can still hear a woman’s whispers in your head but you can’t make out the words or place the voice.

“I still think you should stay at my place until the police find his body,” Ortega frowns at you and you can’t help the glare you send towards him. He keeps bringing that up and your fucking tired of it. You’re not sure whether to thank Anathema or push him off a cliff. Nothing they found at your place led to you but if Ortega hadn’t been wearing your jacket around his waist… things might have turned out differently.

“No,” you’re about to say more but you feel the click even from behind your shield as Steel’s eyes narrow on the two pieces of paper he’s been studying. Fuck.

“You stole my wallet,” you look away from his direction. Shit shit shit… Does he really need to do this now?

 “What? I have no idea what you’re talking about?” you can’t look at him. Fuck, when did you become such a shit liar?

 He throws the papers down and it’s the note you sent with his wallet and a piece of paper filled with your doodles. Fucking hell. _‘It’ll be fun, no one could identify you through a drawing’_ Your past self needs to be punched in the face multiple times.

You look at the papers than up to him raising an eyebrow, “And that is?” You’re going to play stupid as long as you possibly can.

 “Something we found in your _home_ and the note that came with my wallet.”

 “Wait…You stole his wallet too!” Ortega points at Steel looking absolutely offended, “I thought we had something!”

 “We do not hav- You knew I stole your wallet!” you look at him shocked. How did he even figure that out? More importantly, how long has he known?!

 “You stole theirs too!?” Anathema puts a hand over his chest pretending to sniffle, “I thought I was special Kiyo.” What? How? You turn and glare at Sentinel he shakes his head with a shrug. He didn’t tell anyone.

 “God Kiyo how could you do this to me? Our entire relationship is based on a lie,” Ortega says dramatically, pretending to weep into his hands.

“You’re all assholes,” you glare at them, “How the fuck did you even know?”

“Oh, I saw you and let you take mine,” Anathema shrugs face immediately turning into a smile, “Looked like you needed the money.” _Why would you let a stranger runoff with your id’s and cards? That’s even more stupid than not noticing someone take your wallet!_

“The jacket was kind of a giveaway,” Ortega puts his hands down ending his dramatic meltdown with a grin.

“It wasn’t even the same jacket!”

“It had pink cats all over it and you’re about the same size and shape no matter the jacket.”

“There are other people in the world that are my size and who happen to like pink cats!”

“But none who immediately incriminated themselves,” he flashes you a bright smile and you suddenly have the urge to punch his teeth out.

 “You rubble fucking asshole,” you hope your glare sets him on fire. You stand and start to leave ignoring his apology and protest. “I’ll see you all around,” you flip them off as you exit the door.

“Kiyo! Just-”

“Goodbye Charge! I’ll see **you** when I’m done being pissed at you!”

Admittedly you may have slammed the door a bit harder on his face than you meant too.

….

  _She stands above Tartarus, her heel pressed into the base of his throat. A broken man, falling to pieces, no helmet left to hide his face. He begs her for mercy, pleads with her that he tried. But her gift to him was wasted, her heel pressing down slowly, cutting off further plea’s. He may still be useful, but the anger she feels towards him is almost unbearable. Only she was allowed to break **Ares**._


End file.
